No holding back now. No control. Just brutal fucking, giving her everything she asked for and more. Her pussy is gripping me so tight I can barely think, can barely process anything except how good this feels, how right this feels.
"I'll protect you," I tell her between thrusts. "From anything. Anyone. I swear to God, Chloe, I'll protect you from everything."
"I know," she moans. "I know. I'm not—oh God—I'm not going anywhere."
I can't believe I found someone worth fighting for. Someone worth loving. And it's someone I met when I least expected it, when I'd given up on the idea that there was anyone out there who could understand me, who could see what I am and not run.
How did a self-defense class turn into this so quickly?
I have no idea. I never thought I'd be one of the lucky ones to find my match. But now that I have, I'll do anything for her. I'll always be Rampage in that ring, I'll always need the fights, needthe violence to quiet the noise in my head. But maybe now my fury can cool down, be turned into something else. Something more positive.
She calms me down in a way nothing else ever has.
Yet I never stop fucking her. Not until she breaks the rhythm by saying, "Wait. Wait, I want—can I ride you?"
I still completely, my cock buried deep inside her and look at her. "What?"
"You can't do everything, right?" She's breathing hard, her face flushed, her eyes bright behind those glasses. "I want to put in some work too."
A smirk tugs at my mouth. "It's my pleasure."
I carry her to the couch, my cock still hard and throbbing inside her, and sit down with her straddling me. Her thick thighs bracket my hips and fuck, they're fantastic. Soft and strong and absolutely perfect.
She starts slowly at first. Just grinding against me, finding her balance, getting used to the angle. And then she starts rolling her hips, bouncing on my cock, and fucking hell it feels incredible.
Her breasts are right in front of my face, jiggling with every movement, and I can't deny myself. I lean forward and capture one stiff nipple between my lips, grazing it with my teeth just enough to make her gasp and tilt her head back.
She bounces faster.
"I'm close," she pants. "Oh God, Cole, I'm so close."
"Cum for me," I tell her. "Let me feel it."
I grip her ass cheeks, helping her move, guiding her rhythm, and she places both hands on my face, forcing me to look up at her.
"Look at me," she says.
Our eyes lock.
And then she cums.
Her eyes roll back, her fingers trace my jawline, and her pussy clenches around my cock so tight it's almost painful. I watch every second of it, watch her come apart on top of me, watch pleasure transform her face, and I have never felt this appreciated. Never thought I would be.
When her pussy grips my cock like that—pulsing, squeezing, milking, it's like a siren's song calling for me. I don't even have time to warn her. Don't have time to pull out or ask permission or do any of the responsible things I should do.
I just explode inside her.
Three big loads, maybe more, coating her inner walls, and I'm groaning through it, my hands tightening on her hips, holding her down on me so she takes every drop.
When I finally come back to myself, I realize what I just did.
"Fuck," I say. "I'm sorry. I should have… I didn't ask—"
"It's fine," she says quickly, still catching her breath. "I would have asked for it anyway."
I look up at her. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
