The aftershocks still work through him, endless aftershocks, and he cannot believe it -- rippling through him like little earthquakes. Paroxysms, the doctors call it, and it is hardly a fitting description, given what Burr has done to him. He's still a little out of his mind with it, spine curving as another shivers along his core.

He can hardly focus enough to know that he's being unbound. Being knotted is an ache that makes him feel more solid, more real, rather than the untethered, wild thing he had become.

"I've never," and another flutter, compressing him on the knot. "What did you do to me?" A little slurred. He twists far enough to nuzzle Burr, brush over his lips in a terrible and off-center and still-exactly-what-he-needs kiss. "Daddy," he murmurs, drunk with it, as he runs his fingers along his slit. "You're dripping with mine, too."