"Yes, yes, fuck, right there—"
I add a second finger, stretching her carefully, scissoring them while my mouth returns to her clit. I build a rhythm—sucking, curling, pressing—wrecking her systematically. Every time she gets close, I back off, blowing cool air over her heated flesh, letting her hover on the edge until she's weeping, tears tracking into her hair.
"Please," she begs, the control completely gone, her hips chasing my mouth. "Please, Roan, I need to—please let me—"
"Let you what?" I demand, licking her thigh, my fingers still buried deep, stroking that spot with maddening patience. "Say it, Sharma. Tell me what you need."
"I need to come," she sobs, the admission ripped from somewhere primal and helpless. "Please, make me come, I can't—please—"
The word *please* on her lips is the final fracture. I seal my mouth over her clit and suck, hard, merciless, fingers pumping into her, grinding against that spot inside her. She shatters instantly, the orgasm ripping through her with brutal force. Her thighs clamp around my head, her internal muscles clamping down on my fingers in rhythmic spasms, her cry long and keening, a sound of absolute annihilation. She comes and comes, flooding my mouth, my chin, her entire body convulsing as I lick her through it, prolonging the waves, not letting her descend.
"Mine," I growl into her sensitive, pulsing flesh, scraping my teeth gently over her swollen clit, making her gasp and arch. "Say it."
She shakes her head, stubborn even now, even with my mouth wet with her release and her legs shaking apart.
I withdraw my fingers, earning a sob of protest, and surge up her body. My mouth, coated in her taste, crashes against hers in a kiss that makes her whimper—she can taste herself on my tongue, the raw intimacy of it making her shudder. I pin her wrists above her head with one hand, using my body to cage her.
My other hand goes back between her legs. She's hypersensitive, swollen, dripping. I work her clit in tight, merciless circles, relentless, forcing her back up the peak before she can recover. She thrashes beneath me, oversensitive, overwhelmed, her body trying to escape the pleasure even as she craves it.
"No more," she pants, but her hips lift into my hand. "I can't—"
"You can." I suck her lower lip into my mouth, bite down. "Give me another one. Give it to me before I fuck you. I want you empty of everything but me before I'm inside you."
I strum her clit, faster, harder, grinding the heel of my palm against her entrance. She falls apart beneath me within seconds, the second orgasm hitting her almost violently, her back bowing, her breasts pressing into my chest, her scream swallowed by my mouth. She lies there, wrecked, gasping, her pussy fluttering against my hand, her entire body limp and glowing with sweat.
Only then do I strip. My shirt goes in shreds. My shorts follow. My cock springs free, heavy and dark with need, and her eyes go wide, fear flickering through the haze of heat, but she's too spent to tense up.
"It'll fit," I promise, crawling over her, caging her beneath me. "You're soaked open for me, baby. You're ready. Just breathe."
I line up, notch the head against her entrance, feeling that first kiss of slick heat against my swollen flesh. The sensation rips a groan from my chest, primal and raw. She's soft now, relaxed from her orgasms, but still impossibly tight. I push in, slow, fighting every instinct that screams at me to thrust, to knot, to claim. She moans, long and low, her head falling back, neck exposed.
She's burning. Velvet vise, scalding tight, gripping me in rhythmic pulses that make my vision gray at the edges. I watch her face, cataloging every flinch, every hitch of breath. She's so sensitive from coming twice that every inch I gain makes her shudder, her eyes rolling back.
"More," she demands, nails scoring my back, drawing blood. Her voice is hoarse, feral. "Give me more."
I sink deeper, inch by torturous inch, until I'm seated to the root, my balls against her ass, my cock throbbing inside her untouched heat. We freeze there, linked, breathing hard, the bond a live wire between us, a voltage neither of us asked for.
"Move," she whispers, and her eyes are wet, tears tracking into her hair, but she's smiling—feral and victorious. "Fuck me, Roan. Make it hurt so I know it's real."
I lose the thread of gentleness.
I pull out and slam back in, and she screams, not in pain but in release, in finally—finally—letting go. I set a punishing rhythm, hips snapping, the bed creaking beneath us, her breasts bouncing with every thrust. She meets me, rising to meet each stroke, her ankles locking at my lower back, holding me inside.
The room fills with the sounds of it—flesh slapping, our ragged breath, the wet obscene sound of my cock driving into her slick pussy. I angle my hips, grinding against her clit with every stroke, feeling the spiral tightening in her belly, feeling her begin to clench around me.
"Not yet," I snarl, flipping us without breaking the connection.
She lands astride me, eyes wide, hands flying to my chest for balance. The shift drives me deeper, and we both groan, the sound harmonizing into something that resonates through my bones.
"Ride me," I command, gripping her hips, guiding her movement. "Take what you need."
"I… can't," she says. I grab her hips, rotating them. Letting her learn our stride. She braces her knees on the mattress, rising and falling in an awkward, desperate rhythm, finding her pace. Her head falls back, hair a wild halo, breasts swaying, and she's destroying me. She's every fantasy I never let myself have, every nightmare I deserved, culminating in this moment of perfect, terrible union.
I reach between us, thumb finding her clit, strumming it in time with her movements. She shatters instantly, the orgasm ripping through her with brutal force, her internal muscles clamping down on my cock in rhythmic spasms that drag my own release from me.
I roar, sitting up, wrapping one arm around her waist, burying my face in her neck. The knot swells at the base of my cock, locking us together, expanding to fill her, stretching her around me until she's sobbing my name, coming again—harder this time—around the impossible girth of it.
The release tears through me, thought gone, the Pact gone, every cruel word I ever spoke to her gone with it. I spurt inside her, flooding her, marking her from the inside out, and she takes it, nails digging crescents into my shoulders, claiming me right back.
