Paused.
Let me feel it—all of him, thick and pulsing, taking space I didn’t have. I blinked hard, tears falling freely now.
He slid out.
I gasped. Air flooded in. My chest burned.
“Look at me,” he said.
I lifted my head. His cock glistened. His eyes were dark. But not cold. Just absolute. He slid back in. Faster. Harder.
My head rocked with each movement. My spine locked. My thighs trembled. And still I stayed. I stayed because he needed this.
Because I needed this.
The silence broke on a groan. Low. Ragged. Ripped from somewhere behind his teeth. His hand clamped at the back of my head, holding me in place as his cock jerked deep in my throat. Heat filled my mouth. Pulse after pulse.
He didn't pull out. Didn't give me warning. He finished inside me like he owned the right. He did.
I swallowed.
Choked.
Tears rolled down my cheeks.
And Wolfe exhaled above me.
Still.
Powerful.
Mine.
I stayed on my knees. My lips were swollen. My throat ached. His cum still coated the back of my tongue. I didn’t wipe my mouth. Didn’t move.
Wolfe zipped his pants slowly. Every motion deliberate. Every breath still measured. But his silence wasn’t cold now. It was reverent.
He looked down at me. I looked up. My knees burned. My shoulders shook. He reached out. Fingers gentle. Thumb brushing the corner of my mouth.
He wiped the mess he left there. But not in disgust. Not in shame. In ritual. Then he cupped my jaw. Both hands. Held my face like it was something sacred. His thumb swept across my cheekbone.
Slow.
Like he could trace his ownership there. His fingers tightened just slightly—enough to remind me I was still his. Even after the violence. Especially after it.
He didn't kiss me. He didn't praise me. He just held me. And I didn't cry. But I wanted to. It wasn't just the pain that broke me. It was the way he stayed.
Wolfe dropped to one knee. His eyes never left mine. Then he leaned in. And kissed the top of my head.
Just once.
Soft.
Final.
Like he was sealing something. Something already written. Something he didn’t plan on giving back. He didn’t stand right away. Neither did I.
I knelt between his knees, throat raw, skin flushed. His hands still framed my jaw like he wasn’t ready to let me go.
