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I kick her legs wider.

And look.

Pink.

Swollen.

Dripping.

“Fuck.”

I line myself up.

The head of my cock presses against her entrance.

I don’t tease her.

I don’t wait.

I drive into her in one hard thrust.

Sage screams into the counter, teeth sinking into her arm to smother the sound as I bury myself completely inside her.

Every muscle in my body locks.

Fuck.

I fist her hair and pull her head back. “What did I say?”

“No…” She gasps for air. “No noise…”

“Then take it.”

I pull almost completely out before driving back into her.

Harder.

Deeper.

Again.

“Take it quietly.”

Another thrust.

“Take everything you fucking asked me for.”

Her hands claw at the counter as her back arches to meet me.

I stop pretending I can be gentle.

I’ve spent two hundred and thirty-five years holding myself back.

From wanting.

From touching.

From choosing anything for myself because I convinced myself that wanting something was enough to destroy it.