The moment shatters and he pounces. I gasp. I moan and make sounds I haven't let escape my lips since the last time he was inside me.
He enters me in one brutal, claiming thrust. My eyes snap open, my back arches, my fingers claw into his skin. The sting is delicious. The stretch. The fullness. The overwhelming fucking sensation of feeling him inside me again.
His lips leave mine just enough to growl the words against my ear, "Take it, Adora. Take everything I give you. All of it."
He starts moving, wrecking me all over again, slamming into me with brutal thrusts. He's touching every spot inside me like he never forgot. Like his body remembers mine just as well as I remember his. And fuck, I won't last long.
But I can feel it's the same for him. He's losing control, losing himself inside me. His skin burns against mine, our sweat mixing, our bodies moving like they were built for this.
He reaches between us, and finds my clit. His thumb presses down, moving in fast, devastating circles. Fuck. He remembers.He remembers exactly how I like it. Exactly how he can make me lose my mind.
His rhythm doesn't falter. He doesn't fucking stop. The orgasm is already there, crawling under my skin, coiling in my spine, burning, ready to explode.
With one flick of his thumb, I shatter. I scream, coming apart around him, my nails raking down his back, drawing blood.
He groans, low, deep and wrecked, and a second later, his body shudders.
He's silent when he spills inside me, but his body screams for him.
His arms lock around me, holding me so fucking tight it hurts. Like he's afraid to let go. Like he knows the second this moment ends, we both have to face what the fuck we just did.
I tip my head back against the wall, eyes staring blankly at the ceiling, my heart still racing, my body still pulsing.
He buries his face in the crook of my neck, his breath hot against my skin.
We don't speak.
I don't know how much time passes, but it can't be more than a minute before I feel the shift in him. His body goes rigid, muscles coiling tight, fingers digging into my thighs hard enough to leave their shape behind.
Suddenly, he's on the move, taking me with him.
The world tilts, blurs, spins away into nothing. The cell disappears behind us, a forgotten nightmare swallowed by the force of his need, my surrender and the raw, burning hunger still clinging to our skin.
There's a hallway, long and empty, stretching forever, and then blinding, overwhelming light.
Before I can piece together where the fuck we are or what the fuck is happening, I'm inside a house, my mind still dazed, soaked in the aftermath of him.
I should speak. Should demand answers. But the post-orgasmic haze is too thick, too intoxicating, wrapping me in something warm and slow.
He doesn't give me time to think. Before I can grasp a single coherent thought, he sets me down inside a massive walk-in shower, the cold tiles shocking against my bare feet.
I blink. The hoodie is gone. Torn from my body, discarded, a casualty of his urgency. I don't know when he did it.
I barely have a second to take in my surroundings before his fingers are on my chin, tilting my head up, forcing me to meet his gaze.
And fuck, his eyes. They're darker than I've ever seen them. Abyssal. Consuming. Like a wolf staring down a lamb, already tasting the blood in its mouth.
My lips part on a shiver, a silent plea wrapped in air. I should be afraid. I should want to run. My brain should scream "danger!", but my pussy takes the lead and spasms.
His voice is a weapon, smooth and lethal when he speaks.
"Time for a shower, Adora."
His lips curve into a slow, devastating, evil fucking smile.
"I'm eating that pussy. Now."
My entire body reacts to his demand. There’s a throb between my legs, a pulse of need, of hunger, of "fuck, yes!" My pussy answers for me again, clenching around nothing, screaming "come and get it, big boy." I'm sick. I don't give a fuck.
