He thrusts into me hard and deep in one smooth stroke, burying himself to the hilt, and we both break.
“Fuck—you’re so goddamn tight,” he groans, forehead pressing to mine. “Still soaking wet for me.”
I scream, arching beneath him, unable to do anythingbut feel. The ropes hold me firm, every muscle locked, every breath shallow as he begins to move, slamming into me with punishing precision.
There’s no teasing this time.
No slow build.
Just filthy, relentless fucking.
Skin slapping skin.
His name breaking from my throat over and over.
His hands grip my hips, holding me in place as he thrusts harder, deeper, grinding against the spot that makes my vision go white.
“You feel that?” he pants. “Right fucking there? That’s us, baby.”
I nod, babbling incoherent pleas as his pace increases, the friction sending sparks through my veins. He brings his thumb back to my clit, rough and fast, and I lose it.
The orgasm rips through me with brutal force, my whole body bowing off the mattress, screaming his name as I shatter around him.
But he doesn’t stop.
He keeps going.
“Just like that, Charlie,” he growls, hips snapping into mine. “One more. Give me one more.”
“I can’t—” I sob, trembling.
“Yes, you can,” he says, kissing my temple. “You’re gonna come one more time while I fill you up. Gonna feel me everywhere.”
He reaches under my thigh, adjusting the angle. And when he hits that spot? I scream again.
And this time, when I come, I swear I black out for a second. Vision blurred, body clenching so hard around him it drags him right over the edge with me. He groans deep and broken, slamming into me one last time as he spillsinside me, panting, shaking, his whole body locked over mine.
For a long, breathless moment, there’s nothing but the sound of our heartbeats crashing in sync, the creak of the mattress, and the distant crackle of the fire.
Then, slowly, he leans in, brushing his lips over mine.
“Fuck,” he whispers. “You destroy me.”
I smile, wrecked and shaking and completely blissed out.
“Untie me,” I murmur, breathless. “And then hold me. Or I swear I’ll cry.”
His grin is soft. Tender. Still breathless.
“On it, darlin’.”
And he does. With kisses and with hands that tremble just a little as they free me.
He climbs beside me, pulling me into his arms. “You okay?”
“I’m perfect,” I whisper, voice shaky and full.
And when he holds me tighter, whispering that I’m his and he’s not letting go?
