Her.
Me.
Us.
And the truth neither of us can fight.
We hover there, caught between control and collapse, her nails biting into my shoulders as my vision tunnels down to nothing but the expression on her face.
My thrusts are deliberate, restrained punishment. Another inch, slow enough to make her feel every heartbeat of it. My gaze stays locked on hers.
I want her words.
All of them.
“What do you need?”
Her answer hits like a lightning strike.
“Your cock. I need you to fill me… stretch me until I can’t think anymore.”
A surge of dark satisfaction rushes through me, heavier than lust, hotter than anger. My hand tightens around her thigh, holding her open, grounding us both in the moment.
The one where she finally stops running.
“You’re right.” My growl vibrates against her lips. “That’s exactly what you need.”
I push forward. Every inch sliding home until we’re pressed together. She cries out, her hands locking around me as if she’ll drown if she lets go.
The sound fractures the last of my control, ripping me open from the inside out. I give her everything I’ve been holding back. Every ounce of restraint, every piece of myself I swore I’d keep buried.
I thrust into her with a relentless, punishing pace, each stroke driving deeper until the shock of it reverberates through both of us. The slap of skin cracks through the air, it’s a harsh pace that drowns out everything else. Her head bumps the wall with every roll of my hips as her dark hair spills around her like a halo.
She continues to meet me, matching every movement, her body greedy for more. She clenches. It’s a slick claiming that feels less like motion and more like recognition. As if her body remembers me even when her mind tries not to.
Every contraction pulls me in deeper, tighter, until heat licks up my spine. Even when my muscles burn, the strain vibrating through my legs, I don’t stop. The room disappears, becoming nothing more than friction and sound. The wet slide of skin and the low grind of my voice against her ear.
I rest my forehead against hers, sweat sliding between us, our mouths a whisper apart.
I can’t stop.
Not when she’s wrapped around me like this, holding on as if letting go might break her in half.
“This isn’t just your body giving in,” I grind out as every thrust goes deeper, harder, turning ruthless. “It’s you, Rina. All of you. And I’m done letting you pretend otherwise.”
The command comes out like a vow.
It’s half threat, half confession.
Her moan is caught somewhere between protest and surrender as she arches into me, every shudder stripping away the distance she’s tried to keep between us.
Her body seizes, convulsing in greedy, involuntary waves that drag me straight over the edge with her.
It’s not just release.
It’s obliteration.
A white-hot detonation that rips through my soul until there’s nothing left.
