“Shit,” I murmur, biting my lip.
His brow furrows. “Rhea?—”
“I didn’t say stop.”
His nostrils flare. “I’ll go slow.”
I nod. “Not too slow.”
He chuckles, dark and low, and kisses me again, this time guiding the head of his cock to my entrance.
I feel him push in.
Every. Inch.
The stretch is unreal—pain and pleasure and overwhelming fullness. I cry out, nails digging into his shoulders as he sinks deeper, and deeper still.
“Fuck, you’re tight,” he groans, hips trembling from restraint.
“You’rehuge,” I gasp.
He stills, buried to the hilt, letting me adjust. I wrap my arms around his neck, burying my face in his skin. His scent is everywhere—spice and ash and male.
“I’m okay,” I whisper. “Move.”
And when he does, it’s like a dam breaks.
He thrusts into me, hard and deep, and I swear I see stars. The wall behind me groans, but we don’t stop. Can’t. My pussy clenches around him, greedy and slick, taking everything he gives and begging for more.
He fucks me like he’s trying to etch himself into my body. Like he already lives in my soul, and this is just claiming the rest.
“I thought I lost you,” he growls into my ear, every word a thrust.
“You didn’t,” I pant. “You won’t.”
His lips find mine again, bruising and desperate. His hands roam—down my back, across my ass, gripping me tighter as he picks up the pace. My legs wrap around his waist, locking us together.
I’m close. Too close. The heat coils in my stomach, sharp and hot, and when he slams into me just right—angled up, deeper than should be possible—I come undone.
I scream.
Loud. Guttural. Real.
My whole body shudders, pussy clenching violently around him, and he curses in a language I don’t know as he thrusts once, twice more—then follows.
He buries himself deep, cock twitching as he spills inside me, groaning like it tears him apart. His whole body goes rigid, then softens against me.
When we finally collapse, tangled on the cot in the corner, my body aches in a way that makes me feel alive.
Valtron’s arm is heavy across my waist. I don’t move it.
For once, the room is silent. Not even the server hum remains. Just breath. Just skin.
Just us.
He doesn’t ask what it meant.
I don’t tell him to stay.
