“You smell divine, enough to drive men into rut with how promising you are.” His voice vibrated against sensitive flesh. “It makes me want to fill you with my cock and drown you in my come until you cannot remember any name but mine.”
His words pushed me closer to the edge, and my eyes fluttered back as he continued his assault. His tongue entered me then, pushing past my folds with unrelenting pressure. I tightened around him immediately, my body begging for release, for something more, forhim.
“And this. . .” His tongue thrust deeper, and I keened. “This perfect cunt is exactly what every man dreams of. Soft, warm, tight.” He pulled back slightly, and I felt his breath hot against my entrance. “You are perfect the way you are, Violet. Every inch of you, inside and out.” His voice dropped even lower, commanding and dark. “Which is why you will not come until I am buried deep inside of you. Youwillwait for me, Violet.”
Fuck, he knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
I was near delirious at this point, feeling the orgasm crest and hover, my body shaking from the effort of holding it back. I couldn’t help it—I started begging.
“Please, Rowan. Please fuck me. Fill me up. I can’t hold it—”
My hips dropped as his hands repositioned, gripping my hip bones hard enough to bruise. He angled me, lining himself up, and then slammed inside in one brutal thrust.
The orgasm broke immediately, crashing over me with the force of a tidal wave. I heard him let out a string of curses as he began to fuck into me with an intensity that made the first orgasm bleed into a second.
I cried out his name over and over, the syllables breaking apart into incoherent sounds, riding the waves of my second release.
“Fuck, you take me so well, my littlevolchok.” His voice was ragged, wrecked, barely human. I could feel the tension of his orgasm building as his cock thickened inside me, stretching me even further.
“Yes, yes, please—”
“I am going to fill you up, Violet.” His words were accentuated by his thrusts that hit something deep within me that made me see white. “Is that what you want?”
Sweat glistened between our bodies, the scent of sex and salt thick in the air. He leaned down, his teeth finding my breast, the flesh catching and tugging. I felt another orgasm building impossibly fast, brutal in its intensity. Too soon, but my body wouldn’t listen.
“Yes, I want it. I want you to fill me.”
He lifted my leg, pressing my calf against his face, his fingers leaving marks where they gripped. “Fuck, this pretty pink cunt belongs to me now.”
“Yes,” I gasped, feeling him hit deeper from this angle, bruising my cervix with ruthless thrusts. “Don’t fucking stop, Rowan. I’m all yours.”
Pain and pleasure mixed in a feral cocktail of need between us until his body went rigid, every line of him reflecting honed perfection as he thrust deep one final time. A guttural groan tore from his throat, and I felt him pulse inside me, heat flooding my core.
The sensation pushed me over the edge again, my third orgasm ripping through me as I cried out his name as pain and pleasure tore through me.
He kissed me then, capturing my scream with his mouth. Our tongues clashed as we rode each other’s releases, his hips still moving in small, grinding circles that prolonged every aftershock.
When he finally broke away, we were both breathless, gasping like we’d run miles.
We stared at each other, chests heaving, and I couldn’t help it—a giggle bubbled up from somewhere deep inside. The absurdity of it, the perfection of it, the sheer unexpectedjoyof it.
Rowan caught it too, his mouth curving into a coy smile. We sat there—him still buried deep inside me, me still tied and trembling—laughing and smiling at each other like idiots.
It was freeing in a way I couldn’t articulate.
He kissed the inside of my calf, his lips soft against sweat-dampened skin. “Are you alright?”
“Yes,” I breathed, enjoying the fullness of him still inside me. “That was. . .”
I trailed off, unable to find adequate words.
He raised a brow, a smirk playing at his lips. “Acceptable? Amazing? Borderline rapture?”
“Perfect.” I laughed at the word, realizing how often we’d used it to describe each other. But it felt fitting. “My brain is not working right now.”
He shifted carefully, his hands gentle as he helped lower my leg. He slid out slowly, and I let out an involuntary whimper at the loss.
“No. . .”
