“I know.”
“I don’t want to feel it anymore. Just for tonight… make it stop.”
Her plea cracks something open in me. I lean in, slow enough that she can pull away. She doesn’t. Her lips crash into mine—hungry, desperate, like she’s trying to crawl inside my skin and hide there.
I kiss her back, hard, cupping her jaw, swallowing every frightened sound. My hands move on instinct under the hem of her oversized t-shirt, palms sliding up warm, bare skin until I find her breasts. Heavy, perfect. I squeeze, thumbs brushing over her nipples, and she arches with a broken moan that goes straight to my cock.
“Cole—”
“Shh.” I drag the shirt higher, mouth dropping to one nipple, sucking hard while my fingers roll the other. She’s already writhing, thighs pressing together. I slide one hand lower, over the soft curve of her stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of her sleep shorts.
No panties. Fuck.
She’s soaked. My fingers glide through her folds, circling her clit. Her hips buck, chasing more.
“You’re, you’re wet,” I growl against her breast.
She lets out a small giggle. “It’s all you,” she whispers, voice trembling.
I push two fingers inside her—tight, scorching heat—and she clenches so hard I groan. “So, fucking tight, baby.”
“You’re so big,” she gasps, head falling back. “You take up all the space I have.”
I curl my fingers, while my thumb keeps working her clit, relentless circles, until her thighs start to quiver and her breath comes in sharp little sobs.
I pull my hand free, ignoring her whine, and yank her shorts down her legs. She’s bare, glistening in the moonlight. I hook her knees over my shoulders, spreading her wide, and sink between her thighs.
One long lick and she’s already clawing the sheets.
I don’t tease. I devour, tongue spearing inside her, then flattening over her clit, sucking hard. My fingers plunge back in, three this time, stretching her open while I fuck her with my mouth. The headboard taps the wall in a soft, steady rhythm. Her moans get louder, breathless, and wrecked.
“Cole—gonna—”
“Come,” I growl against her clit. “Let me take away all that pent-up energy.”
She shatters with her hips bucking, pussy clamping down on my fingers, a rush of wetness coating my tongue. I keep going, licking her through it until she’s sobbing my name.
I rise, shove my boxers down, and fist my cock. Her eyes go wide.
“Still open door,” I remind her, voice gravel.
She bites her lip, nods, and pulls me down.
I hook her legs higher—ankles by my ears—and drive into her in one slow, brutal thrust. She’s so tight I have to stop halfway to breathe. Her walls flutter around me, trying to adjust.
“Fuck,” I hiss. “You feel that? Every inch of me stretching this tiny pussy?”
“Yes—God, yes—”
I pull back and slam home. Again. Again. The bed creaks louder, headboard knocking the wall in a rhythm that’s definitely carrying down the hall. Her nails rake my back, legs trembling over my shoulders.
“Harder,” she begs.
I give it to her the deep, punishing strokes that hit her G-spot every time, my hips grind against her clit on the downstroke.
She comes again harder, squirting around my cock, soaking the sheets. The sight of it rips my own release out of me. I bury myself deep, groaning her name as I pulse inside her, filling her up until it leaks out around us.
We stay locked together, breathing hard. Her legs slide down my arms, trembling.
