The room was dark except for the flicker of city lights leaking through the curtains.
She lay face down, thighs parted, the scent of sex heavy in the air.
Her pussy was soaked—still twitching from her last orgasm.
But he wasn't done.
He never was, not with her.
Not when she gave him everything.
"One more," he whispered, pressing his body over hers."But not where you expect."
She turned her head, breathing hard.
"Where?"
His hand slid between her cheeks.
Gentle.
Slow.
Deliberate.
He spread her open, running a finger between the soft, untouched skin.
"Here," he said.
She froze.
Not in fear.
In anticipation.
Because she trusted him.
Every nerve in her body screamed, Yes. More. Please.
"Have you ever—?" he asked, kissing her neck.
"No," she whispered.
"Do you want to?"
Silence.
Her legs shifted.
Her back arched.
"Yes."
He didn't rush.
He never did.
He brought out a small bottle of warm oil.Poured it between her cheeks, letting it trickle—hot, slow, slippery.
His finger followed.Just the tip.
Tiny circles.
Teasing her hole with maddening gentleness.
"Relax," he whispered. "Just feel."
And she did.
She felt her body open—bit by bit—as one finger eased in.
Then another.
She whimpered into the sheets—not from pain, but from pressure.
From being full in a new way.
"You're doing so well," he praised."You don't even know how beautiful this is—feeling you stretch just for me."
Her body trembled.
Not just from what he was doing—
But from how deeply he meant every word.
When she was ready, he moved behind her.
Guided the head of his cock—slick, warm—against her now-lubed entrance.
"Tell me to stop," he murmured, voice hoarse."And I will."
She looked over her shoulder.
Eyes wide.
Legs spread.
Back arched.
"Don't stop," she whispered. "I want all of you."
He pushed in.
Slow.Excruciating.Stretching.Filling.
Her breath caught.
Her fingers curled.
But her body—welcomed him.
Inch by inch, he buried himself deep into her tightest place.
"Fuck," he groaned, holding her hips."You're perfect."
She gasped as he bottomed out—completely inside her.
And then he stayed there.
Not moving.
Just holding her. Letting her adjust.
Letting her feel.
"You're full," he said."And now you're mine."
He began to move.
Not hard. Not fast.
Just deep.
Long, slow thrusts that made her body hum.
Each one pressed her into the mattress—each one made her clit throb without being touched.
She moaned.
Louder.Wilder.Lost.
"Oh god—oh my god—" she cried.
He reached around, fingers finding her clit.
And just as he thrust deep into her again—
She came.
From her ass.
From fullness.
From forbidden heat.
From the total surrender.
Her orgasm ripped through her—full body, spine-snapping, soul-shattering.
Her legs twitched.
Her body shook.
Tears filled her eyes.
And he wasn't done.
He slammed in once, twice, came deep inside her, flooding her with moans tangled in her name.
They collapsed together—sweaty, shaking, stunned.
He held her.
Kissed her back.
Stroked her hair.
"No one's ever had me like that," she whispered.
"No one ever will again," he answered. "Only me.Only always me."
THE END.