He fucked me against the window, each thrust driving me harder into the glass, the city sprawled beneath us like an audience to our unraveling. And with every stroke, another compliment, another confession, another claim.
“So fuckingbeautiful.”
“Lorenzo—”
“You’re mine.” He pulled out, then shoved back in, deeper. “My wife. My fucking everything.”
I clenched my bound fists. The city below was a blur of lights. I took a breath. Then another.
“Tell me you’re not going anywhere.”
“I—”
He stopped moving. Held himself deep inside me, a threat and a promise. “Say it,” he commanded.
I moved against him, eager for him to continue. Desperate for him, but he refused to move until I gave in. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He pulled out completely. I whimpered at the loss, but he didn’t give me time to mourn. His hands gripped my hips, turning me, bending me over the edge of the couch.
I heard him spit, then I felt the blunt, thick head of his cock pressed down against my tightest hole.
“Lorenzo.. what are you doing?”
“Shh.” His voice was soft now, almost tender. “I’ve got you. I’m gonna take care of you.”
He was behind me again, his chest pressing against my back. I felt the head of his cock push against my tightest entrance, and I gasped.
“Relax for me.” He leaned over me, his lips brushing my ear. His voice was gentler now, but no less feral. “I’ve got you. I’m notgoing to hurt you. I just need to be inside you everywhere. You understand? I need to own every inch of you.”
I tried to breathe, to let go.
And just as I took another steadying breath, he pushed in.
Slow. Inch by agonizing inch. The stretch was immediate and overwhelming. A pressure so intense it bordered on pain, but he didn’t stop. He filled me completely, impossibly, until I was full of him in a way I’d never been full of anyone.
He paused, letting me feel him, letting my body adjust to the invasion.
“Fuck,” he groaned, his forehead dropping to my shoulder. “Do you feel that? You feel how deep I am?”
I couldn’t speak. Could only nod as he started to move.
He pressed a kiss to my shoulder. Then another, softer, on the back of my neck.
He began to move. Slow, deliberate strokes, each one sinking deeper. I was stretched so tight around him I could feel every ridge, every pulse of his cock. The glass fogged up with my panting.
Then faster, harder, his hips slapping against my ass, his hand reaching around to find my clit.
The orgasm ripped through me like a shockwave, pulling a scream from my throat that I couldn’t contain. My body convulsed against the glass, my inner walls clenching around him in violent, rhythmic pulses. I was aware of nothing but the blinding white heat consuming me.
Lorenzo followed a second later, with a guttural roar that vibrated through our bodies. I felt him pump into me, hot and thick, filling me so full I felt it overflow, dripping down my thighs.
We stayed like that for a long moment; me pressed against the glass, him buried inside me, our ragged breaths syncing together before his hands found my bound wrists, loosening thetie with careful, reverent fingers. When I was free, he turned me around. My knees bucking from the sheer ecstasy vibrating in my body. Lorenzo didn’t seem to care; he just caught me, cradling me against his chest.
“I love you, Zara,” he said. “And I’m never letting you go.”
This time I didn’t argue, didn’t fight.
Instead, I looked up at him. My feral, beautiful monster. The only man who had ever broken me and put me back together in the same breath.
