The shadows in my ass pulse and writhe, responding to his emotional state. As his thrusts grow more frantic, they match his desperation, fucking me with increasing intensity. The dual stimulation is almost unbearable.
"Kaan—" I try to speak, but his next thrust drives the words from my lungs. "I can't—it's too much?—"
"You can," he growls, his fist tightening in my hair. "You will. Take it, Nesilhan. Take everything."
Every movement sends sparks through me. My light responds, gathering beneath my skin, flashes of gold scattering across the walls like falling stars. Our magic is building together, feeding off the pleasure, threatening to consume us both.
My back arches involuntarily, changing the angle, and suddenly he's hitting something inside me that makes my vision blur. Each thrust drags across that spot, sending lightning through my veins.
I can't breathe. Can't think. The world has narrowed to heat and darkness and fullness and the rhythmic pounding that's destroying me in the best possible way.
I'm unraveling thread by thread.
His hand slides from my hair to the center of my chest, fingers splaying hard over my sternum, feeling my heart slam against my ribs. It's as if he's trying to hold my soul inside my body while I shatter.
"Let go," he growls, voice ragged with something beyond desire—something like worship drowned in grief. "Let go for me, Nesilhan. Give me everything."
I try to speak—his name, a curse, a plea—but the words dissolve into helpless sounds of pleasure.
The shadows constrict in my ass. His grip on my chest tightens. His cock drives into me with bruising force, hitting that perfect spot again and again.
My body surges with unbearable heat. Magic ignites beneath my skin like wildfire, responding to the pleasure coursing through every nerve.
And then?—
I rupture.
The second orgasm hits with catastrophic force, a tidal wave that tears through me so violently my vision whites out completely. Golden light bursts from every inch of my skin—pure, blinding, searing hot.
My body convulses around him, inner muscles clenching in rhythmic pulses that seem to last forever. The shadows in my ass are gripped by my spasming muscles, held tight as pleasure crashes through me in endless waves.
I'm screaming. I realize it distantly, as if from outside my body. Screaming his name, or maybe just screaming, as I come apart completely.
His shadows recoil from the intensity of my light, then return stronger, wrapping around me as if to hold me together while I convulse. They're everywhere—binding my wrists, wrapping my throat, circling my breasts—claiming every inch of me.
Kaan makes a sound behind me—a choked, broken roar—and I feel him swell impossibly larger inside me. His rhythm falters, becomes erratic.
"Nesilhan—fuck—I'm?—"
He drives into me three more times—long, hard thrusts that seem to reach my very core—and then he's coming, emptying himself inside me with a violence that matches everything else about this night.
I feel the hot pulse of his release flooding me, feel the way his cock jerks inside me with each spasm. The sensation triggers another wave of my own orgasm, pleasure layering upon pleasure until I can't tell where one ends and another begins.
We collapse together in a violent, tangled heap. The bed finally gives way beneath us with a splintering crash, dumping us onto the broken frame. The world around us is destroyed—shattered wood, cracked stone, smoke curling from places where light met shadow too forcefully.
I'm shaking uncontrollably, my body still pulsing with aftershocks. Every breath feels like it might shatter what's left of me.
He's breathing like he's survived drowning, his chest heaving against my back. His cock is still inside me, softening slowly, and even that subtle movement makes me whimper with oversensitivity.
The shadows slither back into his skin gradually, reluctantly, like exhausted animals returning home. As they withdraw from my ass, I feel empty in a way that's both relief and loss.
Nothing about this was gentle.
Nothing about it was forgiveness.
It was destruction. A breaking. A surrender neither of us meant to give.
And he's still holding me—hands trembling, breath shaky, forehead pressed between my shoulder blades—as if letting go might undo whatever fragile reality we've shattered to create.
