“You’re big,” she breathes, blue eyes wide.
“You can take it,” I growl. “You always do.”
I push in slow—inch by inch—and her whole body shudders. My cock stretches her open, filling her deeper than any human ever could. Her breath catches, her pussy clenches, and she moans like it’s too much and still not enough.
“Gods—Roja—fuck?—”
“You feel that?” I grunt. “That’s mine.”
“Yes,” she gasps. “All of it. Yours.”
I start to move. Slow thrusts, grinding deep, the slick sound of skin against skin filling the room. Her pussy grips me like a vice, wet and hot, pulling me deeper with every roll of her hips.
“You like this?” I murmur against her ear. “My cock inside you?”
“Yes,” she moans, her voice breaking. “Feels like I’m being split in two.”
“You are,” I growl. “I want you open. Raw. No hiding.”
She whines, wrapping her legs around my waist. I press a hand to her throat—not tight, just enough to feel her pulse flutter beneath my palm—and slam into her harder.
“You wanted this,” I rasp. “You wanted me to break you.”
“Yes—gods—don’t stop—please don’t?—”
I don’t.
I fuck her harder. The bed slams into the wall. Her moans echo, wild and breathless, nails carving red streaks into my shoulders. I bare my teeth at her neck, biting just enough to leave a mark. She screams—my name, broken and raw—and I feel her come again. Her pussy spasms around me, milking me, dragging me over the edge.
I roar, low and guttural, spilling inside her with a heat that borders on pain. My body locks, every muscle clenched as I ride out the waves, her hands still gripping my arms like I’m her anchor to reality.
When we finally still, we collapse—sweat-slicked and shaking, tangled together.
She’s gasping against my chest, skin glowing in the faint light.
“Fuck,” she breathes. “I didn’t know I could feel like that.”
“You can,” I murmur, kissing her temple. “With me, you always will.”
She doesn’t speak. Just settles closer, one leg still hooked over my hip, hand pressed to my chest like she’s claiming me.
And gods help me, I hope she never lets go.
CHAPTER 30
KELSEA
By the time the sun fully rises, we’re still snuggled up in the sheets, but the weight between us has changed.
It’s not need anymore. It’s not fear. It’s something softer, quieter. A knowing.
Roja stretches beside me with a grunt, arm flopping over his eyes. “Too bright.”
I smirk, slipping out of bed. “That’s what happens when you leave the curtains open, genius.”
He groans louder. “Traitor.”
I pad barefoot into the kitchenette, the floor cool beneath my toes. Light spills across the counters, golden and soft, catching on the chipped ceramic mugs and the curling steam rising from the kettle.
