The apartment smelled like rain and leather.
Her clothes were soaked from the storm outside, but when she stepped inside—he didn't offer her a towel.
He locked the door.Then walked behind her, breath at her ear.
"You're wet in all the right places," he said."But it's not enough."
She turned to face him.Dripping. Barefoot. Breasts visible through her clinging kurta.
He didn't kiss her.He lifted her.
Threw her over his shoulder like she weighed nothing.Walked her to the bedroom.
She laughed once, breathless.
"What are you doing?"
"You've been a good girl too long," he growled."Now I'm going to fuck the control out of you."
He dropped her on the bed.
Then pulled her knees apart so fast her soaked cotton tore.No ceremony. No warmup. No foreplay.
Just need.
He stripped—slowly. His body was built like a secret.Veined. Cut. Dangerous.
Then he knelt between her thighs.
His cock was already hard—thick, angry, dripping.
"Look at her," he murmured, stroking himself as he stared between her legs."All open. All ready.You want to be fucked, don't you?But not like before."
She whimpered.
"You want to be filled.Bred.Ruined."
She nodded, legs shaking.
"Say it."
"…I want you to breed me."
"Louder."
"I want you to fuck me so deep I forget anyone else existed."
And then—he slid in.
Deep.Hard.One brutal, slow thrust that made her cry out.
She arched off the mattress.
"That's it," he growled, hips starting to move."You feel that? That stretch?That's what it means to be mine."
He gripped her thighs, pinned them wide, and slammed into her.
Again.Again.Again.
The bed creaked. The headboard slammed.Her breasts bounced. Her nails clawed.
"You want my cum?" he whispered in her ear."You want me to spill it so deep it leaks out of you all night?"
"Yes—yes—fuck—yes."
"Then come. First.I want your pussy clenching around me when I release inside you."
She screamed.
And came.Hard.Loud.Violent.
And that did it.
He groaned—low, primal, from the gut.
"Take it—take every fucking drop—"
And he came inside her.Deep.Heavy.Filling her until it leaked down her thighs.
They didn't speak for minutes.
Just the sound of her breathing. His heartbeat. Her soaked thighs twitching around him.
Finally—he pulled out, slow.
White. Milky. Oozing.
"You're not just fucked," he whispered, licking his fingers."You're bred."