Yes...but there are only 3 left in the box

You hesitate for a moment, your heart pounding as James's hands roam over your body, his fingers tracing the curve of your hips and sliding up to cup your breasts from behind. His touch is insistent, his new male form pressing against you, the hardness of his arousal evident even through the thin fabric separating you. "Come on, baby," he murmurs into your ear, his voice deeper now, laced with that urgent need you've both been fighting. "Let's get this started. I need you so bad."

With a shaky breath, you reach into the nightstand drawer, fumbling for the box of condoms you'd stashed there months ago. Your fingers close around it, pulling it out into the dim light of the bedroom. James doesn't stop; one hand dips lower, teasing between your thighs, making your legs tremble as you try to focus. You pop open the box, expecting a full strip, but your stomach drops when you see only three foil packets nestled inside.

"Only three?" you say, your voice coming out breathier than intended, a mix of disappointment and rising panic. James's thumb circles your nipple, sending sparks through you, and you have to grip the box tighter to keep from dropping it.

He peers over your shoulder, his other hand now sliding up your inner thigh, fingers brushing dangerously close to where you're already aching. "Shit, that's all? Well... that means we've got three chances to do this right without risking everything." His lips brush your neck, nipping lightly. "But after that? We could always... improvise. Or maybe we just say fuck it and go bare. Imagine how good that would feel."

You swallow hard, the idea sending a forbidden thrill through you, even as the rational part screams about the 48-hour curse hanging over both of you. If he cums inside you without protection, you could end up pregnant—stuck like this forever—while he gets to switch back. But his touch is relentless, pushing you toward the edge, his fingers now slipping inside you, curling just right. "James, we can't... we have to be careful," you gasp, but your body betrays you, arching into his hand.

"Why not push our luck a little?" he whispers, his free hand guiding yours to set the box down as he turns you to face him, his eyes dark with hunger. "We've got three. Let's make them count. But if we run out... maybe that's the universe telling us to give in." He pulls you closer, his erection pressing against your stomach, fondling your ass now, squeezing as if to emphasize his point.

The heat between you is unbearable, your mind foggy with desire