Then he pulls out—slick pop echoing in the room—and I whine, high and desperate, fisting the black covers till my knuckles ache. Empty. Aching. "Fuck—don't—"
His palm slams between my shoulder blades, right over the bond mark, pinning my chest flat to the bed. I can't move, can't breathe except in short, needy hitches. The blunt head of his cock nudges my hole—hot, thick, insistent—smearing lube and precum.
I freeze, pulse thundering in my ears. His weight settles over my back, breath scorching my neck.
The bond mark throbs under his palm like it's got a goddamn heartbeat of its own, syncing up with the frantic pulse hammering in my veins.
Then he thrusts.
No warning. No mercy. One brutal plunge, cock spearing me open, thick and scorching, bottoming out in a single claiming stroke that rips a raw cry from my throat. "Fuuuck!" My vision whites out—nothing but blinding static and the sting of my own teeth gritting too tight. Every fucking inch of him burns going in, stretching me to the brink before retreating slow just to make me feel the drag all over again, veins catching on my rim in this sick game where I lose every round. And then—yes, no, too much—his blunt tip grinds straight into my prostate like he’s got GPS locked onto it, sparking fire down my legs, making me jerk and whine like he’s pulling the sound right out of me.
I claw at the sheets like they’ll save me, knuckles bone-white, ass clenching on instinct around the brutal invasion—but all it does is make him groan, deep and filthy, fingers biting harder into my hips like I’m just giving him more to work with. And fuck, I am. Pinned. Spread. Owned. My body locks up, backarched like a bowstring when he bottoms out, pelvis flush against my ass, not an inch of space left between us.
Donghwa doesn’t give me the courtesy of breathing room. No fucking way. The second I’m gasping, trying to adjust to the sheer size of him splitting me open, he rears back—pop—just to slam home again, hips snapping forward with a force that knocks the air from my lungs. There’s no rhythm, no finesse—just pure rut-hazed dominance, piston-fast and punishing, each thrust jarring me up the bed with the wet slap of skin-on-skin, my own cock bobbing untouched and leaking between my thighs.
The sound alone is mortifying—the slick squelch of his cock plunging back in, the obscenethwackof his hips meeting my ass, our sweat-slick skin sticking and pulling with every brutal snap forward. My choked gasps? Meaningless white noise drowned out by the symphony of him wrecking me.
My head spins, pheromones crashing over me like a blizzard—sharp winter bite mixed with that inky heat, thick enough to choke on, frying my brain cells one brutal snap at a time. I can't think, can't breathe, justfeel: the brutal drag of him splitting me wide, veins pulsing against my rim, head grinding that spot until my cock leaks steady onto the sheets, untouched and throbbing like a traitor.
"Sh-shit—slow—fuck—" The words slur out, half-beg, half-curse, but my hips shove back anyway, greedy for the wrecking, chasing the filthy spark that coils tighter in my gut. Humiliating. I'm a mess of sweat and slick, moaning like a bitch in heat while this bratownsme, grunting low over my shoulder, teeth grazing my ear.
His hand fists my hair, yanking my head back sharp. Hot mouth latches onto my throat, sucking a bruise right over the bond scar. "Mine," he snarls again, voice gravel-rough, hips stuttering faster—lost to it now, rut turning him feral. I arch,spine bowing, nothing left but the pound-pound-pound of him railing me into oblivion, pleasure spiking vicious through the burn, toes curling as my balls draw tight.
Bone-jarring. Toe-curling. Every snap of his hips jolts me forward like a ragdoll, the bedframe rattling against the wall in protest. His cock drags merciless over that spot inside me—fuck—relentless, turning my vision to static. I can't hold it back, don't even try anymore. A whine rips from my chest, high and broken, straight-up bitch-in-heat pathetic as my whole body seizes.
I come untouched. Violent. Ropes of it splatter his fancy black comforter, my cock jerking wild, untouched pleasure ripping through me like a gut punch. Stars burst behind my eyelids, thighs quaking, ass clamping down on him like a vice as I milk every goddamn drop from myself.
Donghwa makes this animal noise—deep, guttural, like something primal snapping loose. His teeth sink into my shoulder, right over the bond mark, breaking skin. Sharp pain flares, grounding me even as his cockpulses, swells, the knot inflating brutal and fast at the base.
"Fuck—fuck!" I choke out, tears pricking hot at the corners of my eyes. It stretches me wide—too wide—the pressure immense, burning through the aftershocks of my orgasm. My rim screams around it, locked tight, no give, no escape. Every throb shoves more of his come deep inside, flooding me full until it aches, my belly hot and heavy.
He groans into my skin, hips grinding shallow, trapped, riding it out as the knot keeps us fused. His breath heaves against my neck, ragged, sweat dripping from his temple onto my back.
I collapse face-first into the mattress, panting, wrecked. Every twitch of him inside me pulls a whimper—half pain, half filthy satisfaction.
I shudder hard as another hot pulse floods me, Donghwa's knot throbbing deep, pumping more come into my alreadystuffed ass. It's too much—warm, slick pressure bloating my gut, every twitch sending aftershocks zinging up my spine. My brain's a fried mess, hazy and blissed-out, like I've been hit by a truck made of pure sex. What the fuck just happened? I came untouched.Untouched. Like some needy bottom in a bad porno.
We both go still, breaths ragged in the sudden quiet. His weight pins me, sweat-slick chest glued to my back, knot locking us tight. For a minute, it's almost peaceful. Almost. Except for the way my hole clenches greedily around him, milking every drop, and the stupid, traitorous part of me that doesn't want him to pull out.
Then he stirs.
Fuck.
One hand snakes up, fingers curving firm around my throat—not choking, just holding, thumb pressing my pulse point like he owns the beat. The other dives lower, wrapping my spent cock in a loose, teasing grip. It's soft now, oversensitive, but it twitches anyway under his touch, like it forgot we just went a round.
His dick? Still rock-fucking-hard inside me, knot deflating slow but the shaft kicking like it's ready for round two. Already.
"Shit," I mutter into the sheets, voice wrecked.Am I gonna survive this rut?The guy's a machine. My ass throbs, sore and full, come leaking around his base in embarrassing dribbles, but my dick's perking up, traitorous bastard, thickening in his fist.
He nuzzles my neck, lips brushing the fresh bite—hot, possessive. "Not done," he rumbles, voice gravel-thick, hips shifting just enough to grind that fat cock deeper.
No shit, Sherlock. I bite back a moan, thighs quaking. "Give me... a goddamn minute, you animal." But even I hear the whine in it. Lie. I don't want a minute. I want him to wreck me again.
It's still dark outside, though the sky is a few shade slighter through the black curtains. I moan—low, cracked, throat raw as sandpaper from all the screaming I did last night. Or was it this morning? Time's a blur of sweat and slick and that endless, pounding rut rhythm. My whole body's one giant bruise, muscles screaming in protest as I try to shift, eyelids peeling open against the grit.
Exhaustion hits first—heavy, bone-deep, like I've been run over by a truck. Then the ache registers. Back throbbing from being bent like a pretzel. Nipples raw, stinging like they've been sanded down. And lower... fuck. My hole feels wrecked. Stretched so wide and sloppy it might never snap shut again. Every twitch sends a dull, used-up throb through me, come-crusted thighs sticking to the sheets.
I hiss, trying to roll away, but something—someone—looms over me. Hot breath ghosts my chest, then wet suction latches onto my left nipple.Donghwa. The bastard's got it between his teeth, tongue swirling lazy circles over the abused peak, sucking like it's his favorite candy. It's swollen, hypersensitive from hours of him twisting, pinching, licking—turning them into shiny, red messes.
