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He keeps teasing, circling my clit with the tip, pressing just enough to stretch me, then pulling back.
“Please,” I breathe. “Please—”
“What do you want?” His voice is gravelly. “Tell me.”
“Your cock,” I say, no hesitation left. “Please fuck me. I need it.”
He exhales sharply through his nose. “Breathe in.”
I do, deep, shaky inhale.
He slams home in one brutal thrust.
The air punches out of my lungs. He’s so thick, so deep, stretching me to the point of almost-too-much. My nails dig into his biceps.
He freezes, eyes searching mine. “You okay?”
I nod frantically, trying to remember how to speak. “Yes—yes.”
“Breathe with me.”
I match his slow inhale. As I exhale, he withdraws almost all the way, agonizingly slow, then slides back in on my next breath, filling me completely. Again. And again. Setting a rhythm that’s torturously controlled.
Then he snaps.
He starts slamming into me hard, deep, relentless. The bed creaks under us. My body jolts with every thrust, breasts bouncing, thighs trembling around his hips. I cling to his arms, nails leaving half-moons in his skin.
“Eyes on me,” he growls.
I force them open. Those mismatched eyes are locked on mine, intense, possessive, burning. I can’t look away.
Another orgasm builds fast, coiling low and tight. My walls flutter around him, gripping harder with every stroke.
“Eyes on me,” he repeats, voice rough.
I do. I can’t not.
White explodes behind my lids anyway. I come hard, shattering, clenching around him so tight he groans like he’s in pain. My whole body seizes, back bowing off the mattress, a broken cry ripping from my throat as pleasure crashes through me in punishing waves.
“So beautiful,” he murmurs, still moving inside me, slower now but no less deep. “So fucking beautiful when you come for me.”
My limbs are liquid. Spent. Shaking. I can barely lift my head.
He doesn’t pull out. He stays buried deep, hips still rolling in slow, lazy circles that keep every oversensitive nerve singing. His breath fans hot against my ear.
“Count.”
My voice is barely a whisper, wrecked and trembling. “Three.”
I shake my head, frantic, tears pricking the corners of my eyes, not from pain, but from the sheer overwhelming intensity of it all. “No—I can’t. No more. I’m not sure I can take any more.”
He chuckles, low and dark, the sound vibrating through his chest and into mine. “Oh, baby. You still owe me two more.” His teeth graze my earlobe. “And I always collect what I’m owed.”
Before I can protest again, he starts moving, slow at first, deliberate, dragging every thick inch out and then sliding back in with a patience that makes me whimper. I can’t believe this.
Three orgasms in one night. With Luke, I was lucky if I came once, and even then, it was something I had to chase while he finished. This? This is something else entirely. My body feels foreign, liquid, electric, completely under his control.
He shifts his weight, slips one hand between us, and presses a finger right where we’re joined. The pad of it finds my clit, swollen, hypersensitive, and starts rubbing slow, firm circles in time with his thrusts.
