She's wet, so fucking wet, her entrance stretching around me.
But she pauses, eyes on my wound. "Tell me if it hurts."
"It doesn't. Keep going." My hands slide up her sides, thumbs brushing the undersides of her breasts.
She sinks down further, taking half my length, her inner walls clenching tight.
The sensation is intense, her heat enveloping me inch by inch.
Ingrid bites her lip, rocking her hips to adjust, careful not to jolt me too much.
Finally, she settles fully, my cock buried deep inside her pussy.
She stills for a moment, both of us breathing hard, her hands braced on my chest—away from the bandage.
"You feel so good," she says, voice husky.
Then she starts to move, lifting up slowly and sliding back down.
Her breasts bounce with each rise, nipples grazing the air.
I thrust up gently to meet her, but she shakes her head. "Let me."
I nod, hands on her ass now, feeling the muscles flex as she rides me.
Up and down, her pussy gripping my cock like a vice, slick sounds filling the empty room.
The floor digs into my back, but the pleasure overrides it, building with every stroke.
She leans forward slightly, changing the angle, and I hit that spot inside her.
Ingrid gasps, her pace quickening. "Right there... fuck, Gunnar."
Her fingers dig into my shoulders, nails biting just enough to sting.
I watch her face, the way her eyes flutter half-closed, lips parted.
Sweat beads on her forehead, trickling down between her breasts.
I want to touch them, so I do—palms cupping the soft weight, thumbs rolling her nipples.
She arches into it, moaning louder, her hips grinding in circles now, chasing her release.
"Ingrid... you're so tight. So wet for me." My voice is strained, the pressure coiling in my balls.
The wound throbs a little with the movement, but it's distant, drowned out by the way her pussy flutters around me.
She straightens up, hands on her thighs for leverage, riding harder.
Her ass slaps against my thighs with each drop, the rhythm steady and relentless.
I can see her clit, swollen and rubbing against my pubic bone every time she bottoms out. "Touch it," she demands, voice breathy.
My thumb finds her clit, circling it firmly.
She cries out, head thrown back, blonde hair cascading down her back.
The ring on her finger catches the light as her hand grips my wrist, urging me on. "Yes, just like that. Don't stop."
