I’m sensitive—too sensitive—but the overstimulation only makes everything sharper, hotter. My thighs tremble around his waist, heels digging into the backs of his thighs to pull him even closer. He likes that. I can tell by the filthy sound he makes in the back of his throat.
“Look at you,” he rasps, slowing just enough to grind in slow, filthy circles that make my eyes roll back. “All flushed and wrecked and still begging for more. You love this cock, don’t you? Love how deep I get. How full I make you feel.”
“Yes—God, yes—” The words spill out before I can stop them, desperate and raw.
He chuckles, dark and dangerous, then suddenly pulls almost all the way out, leaving just the thick head inside me. I whine at the loss, hips lifting instinctively, chasing him.
“Uh-uh.” He pins me down harder, eyes glittering. “You want it? Then tell me exactly how bad you need me to fuck you.”
My face burns, but the ache between my legs is worse. “Please, Crewe,” I gasp. “Fuck me hard. Please—I need you so deep I can’t think.”
His grin is pure sin. “That’s my girl.”
Then he slams back in, one brutal, perfect thrust that punches the air from my lungs. He sets a punishing rhythm—long, deep strokes that drag against every sensitive spot inside me, then short, sharp snaps of his hips that make my clit throb with every impact. The bed creaks under us. My nails rake down his back. Sweat slicks our skin together.
“You feel that?” he murmurs, voice wrecked now too. “Feel how fucking soaked you are for me? That pretty pussy’s dripping down my balls. Gonna make a mess of these sheets, baby.”
I can’t answer. I can only moan, head thrashing against the pillow as another wave starts building, impossibly fast after the first one.
He must feel it because his grip tightens, rhythm turning erratic, desperate. “Come on, Riley. Give me another one. Come on my cock again—fuck—let me feel you shatter.”
His mouth crashes over mine, swallowing my cries as he fucks me through the rising heat. Tongue deep, teeth biting my bottomlip, hand sliding between us so his thumb can circle my swollen clit in tight, ruthless strokes.
It hits me like lightning.
I arch so hard my spine leaves the mattress, screaming his name into his mouth as the second orgasm rips through me, fiercer than the first. My walls clamp down around him, pulsing, fluttering, and he groans like he’s in pain.
“Fuck—fuck—there it is. So fucking good. So tight—gonna come inside you, baby. Gonna fill this greedy little pussy up.”
His thrusts turn wild, sloppy, hips slamming into mine as he chases his own release. Then he buries himself to the hilt, body locking tight against me, and I feel the hot, thick pulses of him spilling deep inside.
He shudders above me, forehead pressed to mine, both of us panting, wrecked, trembling.
For a long moment neither of us moves.
Then he kisses me slow, filthy, possessive—like he’s branding me from the inside out.
“Mine,” he whispers against my swollen lips.
And God help me, I believe him.
I’m breathing hard, cheeks hot, lips sore in the best way.
Crewe’s arm tightens around me, pulling me against him with a quiet possessiveness that makes me feel claimed in the safest way.
“You okay?” he asks, voice rough.
I nod, curling my hand against his chest. “Yeah.”
His breath brushes my hair. “Get some sleep.”
I snort softly. “Afterthat?”
He lets out a low chuckle, and the sound makes my heart soften all over again. “I’ll keep watch,” he murmurs.
“You can’t keep watch if you don’t sleep.”
“I can.”
