"Fuck, Zoë. You feel so good."
"You're huge," she gasps, her nails digging into my abs as she takes all of me. She pauses, letting herself adjust to the stretch. Her pussy clenches around me, hot and tight and perfect.
"Move," I grit out, my hands sliding up her sides to cup her tits through the lace. "Ride me."
She starts to move. It's slow at first, a torturous rhythm that drags a guttural moan from my throat. She rises up, the wet heat of her pussy sliding along my shaft, then slams back down, taking me to the root. I watch her, mesmerized. The silver 98 on her chest glitters in the low light, jumping with every thrust. Her tits bounce in the mesh, her nipples hard points pressing against the fabric. She's using me, chasing her own pleasure, and it's the hottest fucking thing I've ever seen.
"Look at you," I say, my voice rough. "Wearing my name while you fuck me. So fucking dirty."
"Yours," she breathes, her head falling back. "All yours."
I sit up, wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her flush against my chest. I bury my face in her neck, biting the sensitive skin there. She gasps, her rhythm faltering.
"Too slow," I growl against her skin.
I plant my feet on the mattress and take over. I thrust up into her, hard and deep. The control snaps. I'm done watching. I need to drive. She cries out, her arms wrapping around my shoulders, holding on for dear life.
"Gio!"
"Take it," I command, pistoning my hips. "Take this cock."
I fuck her like I won the Cup tonight—like I have something to prove. The bed creaks under us, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. I reach between us, my fingers finding her clit, rubbing tight circles.
"Come for me, Zoë," I demand. "Squeeze me."
She lets out a broken sob, her body tightening like a bowstring. Her pussy clamps down on me, rippling around my dick, and she shatters. She screams my name, her whole body shaking as she comes. The sensation is too much. Her pulsing walls drag me over the edge with her.
"Fuck!" I roar, burying myself deep inside her. I come hard, pouring myself into her, filling her up. It's violent and intense, a release of three years of tension. My vision whites out, my soul leaving my body. I collapse back against the pillows, bringing her with me. She collapses on my chest, boneless and spent. We're both panting, our hearts racing in sync. I stay inside her for a long time. Finally, I soften and slip out. I watch my cum leak out of her, marking her, claiming her all over again. My arms wrap around her, holding her tight against my chest. I trace the silver 98 on her lingerie with my thumb, the foil cool under my fingertips.
"You okay?" I ask, my voice hoarse.
"Better than okay," she murmurs sleepily, her breath warm against my skin. "That was..."
"Yeah." I look up at the ceiling. The adrenaline is gone, replaced by a deep, bone-deep satisfaction. I have the Cup. Ihave the legacy. I have the girl. The past is dead. The future is ours.
"We made it," I whisper.
She kisses my chest, right over my heart. "We did."
I close my eyes, and for the first time in my life, I'm just looking forward.
