The weight of Mateo's body pressed Bambi deeper into the mattress, his broad shoulders blocking out the morning light as he loomed over her. His fingers still curled possessively around her throat, not tight enough to cut off air, but enough to remind her who held the power. His dark eyes burned with something feral, something that made her pulse stutter beneath his thumb. The scent of sweat and sex clung to the air between them, thick and intoxicating, but there was no tenderness in his gaze—only raw, unfiltered intent.
His free hand dropped to his belt, the leather sliding through the buckle with a slow, deliberate rasp. The sound cut through the quiet room like a blade, sharp and promising. Bambi's breath hitched as the belt came loose, the metal clink of the buckle hitting the floor sending a fresh wave of heat between her thighs. She should've been angry—should've pushed him away, demanded answers for the way he'd left her strung out and aching last night. But the way his stubble scraped against her collarbone as he dipped his head, the way his calloused fingers traced the inside of her thigh before gripping it hard enough to bruise, stole every protest from her lips.
"Time to show you who's in control," he growled, his voice rough with lust. His pants were already undone, the fabric straining against the thick length of his cock as it sprang free, heavy and flushed with need. Bambi's gaze flicked down despite herself, her mouth going dry at the sight. She knew that look—the way his jaw clenched, the way his muscles tensed like a predator about to strike. He wasn't asking. He wasn't even teasing this time. He was taking.
Before she could react, his hand left her throat only to shove her nightgown up past her hips, the thin fabric tearing slightly under his urgency. The cool air hit her exposed skin, but the chill was nothing compared to the heat of his body as he settled between her legs, his cock dragging through her slick folds with a wet, obscene sound. Bambi gasped, her nails digging into the sheets as he lined himself up, the broad head of his cock pressing against her entrance without warning.
"Mateo—!" Her voice broke, half protest, half plea, but he cut her off with a sharp thrust, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal motion. The stretch burned, delicious and overwhelming, her body clenching around him instinctively. He groaned, his fingers biting into her hips as he pulled back only to slam into her again, harder this time. The bed creaked beneath them, the rhythm of his hips punishing, relentless. He wasn't making love. He was fucking her—claiming her with every snap of his waist, every grunted curse that fell from his lips.
"Fuck, you take me so well," he snarled, his breath hot against her ear as he leaned down, his chest crushing her breasts against his. "Even when you're still sore from last time. Even when you hate how good it feels." His teeth grazed her earlobe, sending a shiver down her spine, and she whimpered, her body betraying her as her hips lifted to meet his next thrust. She did hate it. Hated how easily he reduced her to this—gasping, trembling, her mind fogging with pleasure even as her heart ached with the weight of everything unsaid between them.
His pace was brutal, his cock pistoning in and out of her with wet, slapping sounds that filled the room. Bambi's vision blurred, her fingers clawing at his shoulders, her thighs trembling as the pressure coiled tighter inside her. She was close—so fucking close—and from the way his muscles locked, the way his breath came in ragged bursts, she knew he was too. But Mateo had never cared about her pleasure when his own was on the line.
"Fuck.. I'm going to come so deep inside you," he grunted, his hips stuttering as his rhythm grew erratic. "Damn, I'll fill this tight little cunt up until you drip with me." His words sent her spiraling, her orgasm crashing over her in a white-hot wave...
—only for him to pull out abruptly, his cock kicking against her thigh as he came with a guttural groan, thick ropes of cum splattering across her stomach, her breasts, painting her skin in sticky heat. Bambi cried out, her body convulsing with the denied release, her pussy clenching around nothing as the pleasure twisted into frustration. "No—!" she sobbed, her hips jerking uselessly, chasing the orgasm that had been ripped from her grasp.
Mateo didn't even look at her as he straightened, his chest heaving. He swiped a thumb through the cum on her breast, smearing it over her nipple with a rough twist that made her gasp. "Good girl," he murmured, but there was no warmth in it. Just possession. Just another reminder that she was his to use, his to leave wanting.
Then he was gone, stepping back from the bed with a dismissive flick of his wrist. "Business," he said shortly, picking up a few clothes and already turning toward the bathroom. "Don't wait up."
The shower turned on a moment later, the sound of running water a cruel punctuation to the silence he left behind. Bambi lay there, trembling, her skin slick with sweat and his release, her nightgown clinging to her in damp patches. The sheets beneath her were a mess, the scent of sex heavy in the air, but the warmth of his body was already fading. She pressed a hand to her stomach, her fingers coming away sticky, and a broken sound escaped her.
She was still aching. Still empty.
Her hand slid lower, her fingers slipping between her folds with a shuddering breath. She was so wet, so sensitive, the first brush of her fingertips against her clit sending a jolt through her. She bit her lip to stifle a moan, her other hand kneading her breast, pinching her nipple hard the way Mateo had. It wasn't the same—would never be the same—but the pressure built quickly, her body still wound tight from his touch. She circled her clit faster, her thighs trembling, her free hand dropping to her entrance, two fingers plunging inside as she imagined it was him—imagined his cock stretching her, his voice in her ear telling her to come.
It didn't take long. Her orgasm hit her like a punch, her back arching off the bed as she came with a choked cry, her fingers working furiously until the last waves of pleasure ebbed away. She collapsed back against the mattress, her chest heaving, her skin flushed. The release was bittersweet, the afterglow tainted by the knowledge that he hadn't even cared enough to finish her.
The bathroom door clicked open. Mateo stepped out, fully dressed, his hair damp from the shower. He didn't look at her as he grabbed his phone from the nightstand, his keys from the dresser. "Lock up when you leave," he said, his voice already distant, already gone.
The front door shut behind him a moment later.
Bambi stared at the ceiling, her fingers still glistening with her own arousal, her skin cooling where his cum had dried. The room felt too big, too quiet. Too empty.
And for the first time, she wondered if she was done letting him walk away.