“Oh my God.” Her nails dig into my shoulders. “You’re so—fuck—you feel so good—”
I pull back and drive forward again. The sound is obscene. Wet. Slick. Our bodies meeting again and again, her arousal coating my cock, dripping down to my balls.
I fuck her against the wall.
There's nothing gentle about it. I piston into her with deep, relentless strokes, each thrust driving her harder against the concrete.
Her moans bounce off the walls, filling the basement, and I swallow them with my mouth on hers.
"This what you wanted?" I grunt between kisses. "Wanted me to fuck you like this?"
"Yes—God—yes—"
I shift my angle, lifting her higher, and the next thrust hits something inside her that makes her scream. Her entire body seizes, her pussy clamping down on my cock so hard I see stars.
"Right there?" I do it again, deliberately aiming for that spot. "That where you need me?"
"Jake—" She's crying now, tears mixing with the water still on her face, and I know they're tears of pleasure. "I'm close—I'm so close—"
"Come for me." I fuck her faster, harder, chasing my own release right alongside hers. "Come on my cock, Talia. Let me feel you."
She shatters.
Her orgasm tears through her like a wave, her whole body shaking as she comes.
I feel her pussy ripple around me, squeezing and releasing in rhythmic pulses, and the sensation drags me over the edge with her.
"Talia—" I bury my face in her neck and groan her name as I spill inside her.
Hot pulses of cum flood her pussy, filling her up, and I can feel the mess we're making—the mix of my release and hers dripping down between us.
Her fingers loosen in my hair. Her forehead rests against my shoulder, her entire body relaxed in a way I’ve never seen before.
She trusts me, I realize.
The thought makes something inside me ache.
Carefully, gently, I slide my hands lower and ease her down until her feet touch the tile.
She sways.
Instinct takes over immediately. I tighten my grip, steadying her before she can even stumble.
Neither of us speaks.
I let go first.
Because if I don’t create distance now, I might not let her go again.
She wraps her arms around herself, suddenly cold.
I turn away quickly, grabbing the nearest towel from the rack on the wall. My hands feel strange. Unsteady. Like they don’t belong to me.
I bring the towel back and hold it out to her without looking directly at her face.
She takes it slowly.
“Thanks,” she whispers.
