He laughs, dark and satisfied. “Better. Keep going.”
His thrusts get harder, faster. The sound of our bodies colliding fills the room, wet and obscene. I’m shaking, wanting more. He pulls out suddenly, and before I can protest, he turns me onto my back again and slides back inside, deeper this time, folding my legs up against my chest, locking his arms around them to keep me open.
His face hovers over mine. “Look at me,” he says. “I want your eyes on mine when I make you scream.”
I hold his gaze, raw and breathless. “I’ll scream,” I whisper. “I’ll scream until they drag us apart.”
“God, I fucking love you.” He pumps faster, harder, hitting me perfectly. I feel it building again, tight and hot. He feels it too. He shifts his grip, uses his forearm to pin my thighs further while his other hand slides between us, thumb finding my clit. He rubs tight circles, perfect pressure. I moan loud this time, not caring. Heat flashes through me.
“Come,” he growls. “Now.”
I do. I break. Pleasure erupts, white-hot. My body arches impossibly. I scream his name, gripping his arms so hard my nails dig in deep. My cunt convulses around him, clenching, shaking. He keeps pounding, thrusts relentless, dragging out every last spasm.
He doesn’t stop even when I collapse, limp and shuddering. He withdraws only long enough to flip me again—this time onto my side. He slides in from behind, hooking one leg over his hip, spoon-fucking me deep and slow while his hand slides over my stomach and up to squeeze my breast. His lips find my ear.
“What do you want now?” he asks, voice barely above a breath.
“You, always you,” I pant. “Want you to ruin me. Want to be sore in the morning.”
He bites my shoulder, hard enough to leave a mark. “You will be.”
He starts slow and deep, fucking me with deliberate strokes, hitting all the right spots, his free hand pinching my nipple,rolling it. We pant together, sweat and water drying on our skins. He speeds up. I rock with him, greedy for every thrust. He whispers filthy things in my ear.
“You want me to breed you right here?”
“Yes.” My answer is immediate, breathless. “Fill me. Make me wear it.”
“You want to feel me dripping out tomorrow when you walk?”
“Fuck, yes.”
His hand moves from my breast to my chin, turning my face to his so he can kiss me sideways, fucked up and perfect. He pounds harder, thumb rubbing my clit again. I come a third time, a sudden sharp release that leaves me shaking violently. He grabs my waist and slams in faster, breath ragged.
“How many times can you give me?” he rasps, eyes burning into mine. “How many can you take for me?”
“As many as you want,” I breathe, almost sobbing. “Take what you want from me.”
He stills for a moment, chest heaving. Then he pulls out and flips me onto my stomach. He straddles me, straddles my thighs, lifts my hips. I feel the head of his cock pressing again, harder than before, throbbing.
“Hold on,” he warns, voice rough. He thrusts into me with a savage pace, hips pounding my ass. I scream into the mattress, muffling it, grabbing fistfuls of sheets. He fucks me flat, keeping me pinned by the small of my back, watching himself disappear into me. His balls slap my clit in a frantic rhythm, overstimulating me, pushing me past what I thought I could take. My legs shake, but he keeps me pinned.
“Sergei, I can’t?—”
“You can and you will,” he snarls, eyes flashing. “Give me one more and I’ll fill you.”
“Oh God,” I gasp as a fourth orgasm rips through me. It’s messy, uncontrollable. I squirt over his cock, soaking him, soaking the sheets. He groans, deep and feral. His hips move faster, seeking release. He pulls out, flips me again, drags me up so I’m on my knees, spreads my legs wide, and thrusts back in.
“Look at me,” he orders again, gripping my face. “This is the last one.” He slams into me, every muscle rigid. “Say it. Say you want me to come in you.”
“I want it,” I sob, grabbing his shoulders. “Please—fill me, Sergei. Please.”
He loses it. He thrusts home, holds there. His face twists, eyes squeezing shut. I feel the first hot pulse flood inside me. He groans, deep and possessive, as rope after rope spills into my cunt. He grinds deeper, pushing it in, making sure I feel every drop.
“Fuck,” he whispers, forehead falling to mine. “Fuck, I love filling you.”
“I love being filled by you,” I whisper back, legs trembling. “Don’t ever stop.”
His hips keep rolling lazily as the last pulses run through us both. He finally stills, kisses me slow, keeps me wrapped in his arms while he softens inside me. He pulls out, and our combined fluids drip down my thighs, onto the ruined sheets. He looks at me like he just conquered a city.
