“Then do something about it,” I rasp, voice shaking with need.
That’s all it takes. That’s all the permission he needs.
He snarls—a low, feral sound that vibrates through his chest into my back—and shoves my skirt up around my waist with impatient hands. His fingers dive between my legs, yanking my soaked panties to the side. The groan he lets out when he drags two thick fingers through my dripping slit is so deep and animal it feels like a tongue against my clit.
“Jesus Christ,” he breathes, voice cracking. “Your pussy’s making such a mess for me already and I’ve barely touched you.”
He sinks two fingers into me without warning, curling them hard against that perfect spot while his other arm bands tight around my waist, holding me flush against his chest. I cry out, hips jerking, but he holds me in place, fucking me with his fingers while his mouth latches onto my neck, my ear, biting and sucking like he wants to mark every inch of me as his.
“Nazareth—please?—”
He pulls his fingers out abruptly, leaving me empty and aching, clenching around nothing.
Before I can even whimper at the loss, he pushes me against the cold concrete parapet, the city lights sprawling dizzyingly far below us. He hooks my panties around his thumb, pulling them to the side, and I’m barely breathing when I hear the sound of his zipper, my pussy already throbbing, body primed to be filled.
“Hands on the ledge,” he growls, voice dark and fraying at the edges. “Don’t let go. I can’t be gentle with you. Not tonight.”Then hooks one strong hand under my thigh, lifting my leg, spreading me wider from behind.
I barely have time to brace my palms on the rough concrete before I feel the blunt, scorching head of his cock drag through my soaked folds—once, twice—teasing, torturing, coating himself in my slick.
Then he slams into me in one brutal thrust, my heel lifting off the ground.
A raw, broken cry tears from my throat as he buries himself to the hilt from behind. The new angle is devastating—deeper, harder, the raised leg and the way he’s bent me over the parapet letting him drive impossibly deep. My back arches sharply, tits pressed against the cold stone, ass tilted up for him like an offering.
“Fuck—Sophia—” His voice is completely wrecked, his breathing labored, and the sound does something to me. Amps up the heat, makes me wetter, catapults me toward orgasm so fast, so intense, it blurs the edges of my vision.
“Faster,” I beg, needing the release more than I need air. “Faster, please.”
The hand holding my panties to the side grips my hip hard enough to bruise as he starts fucking me with zero control—savage, punishing strokes that slap loudly against my ass with every brutal thrust.
We’re both completely lost and out of control. My pussy’s so drenched, the sound of him fucking me is obscene, and my clit is throbbing, my whole body alive and desperate and singing for him.
“Christ… you’re dripping down my cock before I’ve even fucked you properly. That’s how bad you need me, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” I pant, fighting the urge to reach back, to touch him. “I need you so fucking much.”
“God, you feel too good,” he groans, hips snapping faster, deeper. “This tight little hole is gushing for me like it knows who it belongs to.”
Every savage thrust rocks my whole body forward, my raised leg trembling violently as he rails me from behind, the way his cock curves inside me makes me dizzy.
“I can’t stop,” he groans against my ear, voice hoarse and desperate. “And I can’t last long. You gotta come, Sophia.”
He lets go of my panties, and they snap against my ass, the sting slamming into my core. His arm wraps around my waist, and the second he touches my clit, the world explodes—heat, electricity, an implosion behind my pubic bone that leaves me clenching helplessly around him as I come.
I cry out—don’t even try to swallow it. Every muscle trembling, every nerve ending on fire, too much sensation all at once, so sharp and desperate it borders on pain.
“Fuck, it feels good, you coming around my cock.” His pace turns feral. Short, brutal thrusts that punch the air from my lungs. The wet slap of skin on skin grows louder, filthier, echoing across the rooftop as he pounds into me from behind, hips slamming against my ass over and over like he’s trying to fuck three months of agony out of both of us.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he demands, voice breaking as he drives even deeper, grinding against that spot that makes my eyes roll back. “Tell me this pussy still belongs to me.”
“I’m yours,” I pant, barely able to form words. “Always. Always yours… Nazareth.”
The second his real name leaves my lips, something in him snaps completely.
A guttural, broken sound rips from his chest—half growl, half moan—and he slams into me one final time, burying himself as deep as he can go.
His hips stutter violently as he comes, flooding me with hot, thick ropes of cum. Pulse after desperate pulse, he fills me until it’s too much, spilling out around his cock and running down my thighs in warm, messy trails.
He doesn’t stop moving. He keeps grinding slow and deep through his orgasm, like he can’t bear to pull out, like he needs to stay buried inside me forever. His forehead drops between my shoulder blades, his entire body shaking against mine as he rides out every last wave.
