๐๐ด๐ข๐ข๐ฑ ๐๐ซ๐ก ๐๐ญ๐ฆ๐ ๐ถ
๐๐ฌ๐ฑ๐ข: โ๐ช ๐๐ข๐ฃ๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ข ๐ช๐ถ ๐ญ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฌ๐ก, ๐ซ๐ฌ๐ ๐ฑ๐ฒ๐ฏ๐ซ๐๐ฉ๐ฐ, ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ซ๐๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ถ โ ๐ฅ๐๐ณ๐ข ๐ช๐ถ ๐ก๐๐ฏ๐จ ๐ญ๐ฌ๐ด๐ข๐ฏ ๐๐ซ๐ก ๐ ๐ฏ๐ข๐๐ฑ๐ข ๐ฐ๐ฌ๐ช๐ข๐ฑ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ซ๐ค ๐ค๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ก ๐๐ซ๐ก ๐ก๐ซ๐ข๐ค๐ฏ๐ฌ๐ฒ๐ฐ, ๐๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฌ ๐ฆ ๐ญ๐ฒ๐ฑ ๐ช๐ถ ๐ฃ๐๐ณ ๐ญ๐ฌ๐ข๐ช ๐ฐ๐ฆ๐ซ๐ ๐ข ๐ฅ๐ฆ๐ค๐ฅ๐ฐ๐ ๐ฅ๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ฉ.ย
๐๐ฆ๐จ๐ข, ๐ฏ๐ข๐๐ฉ๐ฌ๐ค ๐๐ซ๐ก ๐ ๐ฌ๐ช๐ช๐ข๐ซ๐ฑ ๐๐๐ฌ๐ฒ๐ฑ ๐ฐ๐ช๐ฒ๐ฑ! ๐๐ฉ๐ฐ๐ฌ ๐ฐ๐ฅ๐ฌ๐ฒ๐ฑ ๐ฌ๐ฒ๐ฑ ๐ฑ๐ฌ @kteezy997 ๐ฐ๐ฅ๐ข ๐ฅ๐ข๐ฉ๐ญ๐ข๐ก ๐ช๐ข ๐ฑ๐ฌ ๐ค๐ข๐ฑ ๐ฐ๐ฌ๐ช๐ข ๐ฆ๐ซ๐ฐ๐ญ๐ฌ ๐๐ซ ๐จ๐ข๐ข๐ญ ๐ช๐ข ๐ฑ๐ฏ๐ฌ๐ฒ๐ค๐ฅ ๐ก๐๐ฏ๐จ ๐ข๐ช๐ญ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ซ๐ข๐ฐ๐ฐ ๐ด๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ซ๐ค <3
๐๐ฒ๐ช๐ช๐๐ฏ๐ถ: ๐๐๐ก๐ก๐ถ ๐๐๐ถ๐ซ๐ข ๐ฅ๐๐ณ๐ข ๐ฏ๐ฌ๐ช๐๐ซ๐ ๐ข ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฑ๐ฅ ๐ฌ๐ซ๐ข ๐ฌ๐ฃ ๐๐ฒ๐ฏ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฒ๐ข ๐ก๐๐ซ๐ ๐ข๐ฏ, ๐ด๐ฅ๐ข๐ซ ๐ฑ๐ฅ๐ข๐ถ ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ซ๐๐ฉ๐ฉ๐ถ ๐ช๐ข๐ฑ ๐๐ฃ๐ฑ๐ข๐ฏ ๐ฉ๐ฌ๐ซ๐ค๐ฐ ๐ฑ๐ฆ๐ช๐ข, ๐ฑ๐ฅ๐ข๐ถ ๐ฌ๐ญ๐ข๐ซ ๐๐๐ซ๐ก๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ โญ๐๐ซ.
๐๐๐ฏ๐ซ๐ฆ๐ซ๐ค๐ฐ: 18+๐ ๐ฌ๐ซ๐ฑ๐ข๐ซ๐ฑ, ๐ช๐๐ฑ๐ฒ๐ฏ๐ข ๐ ๐ฌ๐ซ๐ฑ๐ข๐ซ๐ฑ, ๐ฐ๐ช๐ฒ๐ฑ, ๐ฐ๐ญ๐๐ซ๐จ๐ฆ๐ซ๐ค, ๐ก๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ฑ๐ถ ๐ฑ๐๐ฉ๐จ, ๐ฃ๐ฆ๐ซ๐ค๐ข๐ฏ๐ฆ๐ซ๐ค (๐ฃ๐ข๐ช ๐ฏ๐ข๐ ๐ฆ๐ข๐ณ๐ข), ๐ช๐ข๐๐ซ ๐๐๐ก๐ก๐ถ, ๐๐ฒ๐ฏ๐ฉ๐ข๐ฐ๐ฎ๐ฒ๐ข ๐ณ๐ฆ๐๐ข, ๐ฑ๐ข๐๐ฐ๐ฆ๐ซ๐ค, ๐ฏ๐ฌ๐ฒ๐ค๐ฅ ๐ฐ๐ข๐ต, ๐ก๐ข๐ข๐ญ๐ฑ๐ฏ๐ฌ๐๐ฑ๐ฅ, ๐๐ฉ๐ฌ๐ด๐ง๐ฌ๐, ๐๐ซ๐ก ๐ช๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ฌ๐ฏ๐ข๐ข๐ข๐ข <3
Glitter, feathers, and lust were in the air. Everyone in Cairo knew the theater for elites and soldiers. This place served another kind of entertainment entirely. While burlesque was popular in Europe, in Cairo, it was something entirely new, exotic, and dangerous.
You had met him by pure coincidence. One night, he had marched into the theater bar with his entire soldier squadron, looking like he wanted to be anywhere else on earth. Paddy Mayne was a war dog, a man who loved poetry and killing enemies. He had no patience for what he called "wee girls in feathers" over whom other men dripped away their last remaining brain cells.
He had expected to be bored.
But then, he noticed you.
You were different from the others. There was something darker, sharper, and deeply interesting hitting your soul, a quiet intensity that didn't belong in a room full of cheap tinsel. And then, though you still didnโt quite understand how it had happened, you found yourself swept into a passionate romance with the SAS commander himself. Paddy didn't come often. If anyone discovered that a man of his rank was having a torrid affair with a burlesque dancer, he would have serious problems with the high command. But when he did appear, the routine was always the same: you fucked like the world was ending, and then you lay in the dark and talked about poetry. Despite the rarity of his visits, he always stayed for your performance, and in the weeks between, you would receive letters written in dirty sand, detailing exactly how you made his mind dirtier than the desert trenches.
The 28th of Julyโthat date was lodged in his mind like a worm burrowing into a rotten skull. He had to be at the club. He had to see you, feel you, and consume you.
The night air in Cairo felt intense. You had prepared for this specific show for weeks, and ever since you had received his latest letter containing just two wordsโโIโm comingโโyour heart and mind had gone utterly mad. Inside the dressing room, the chaos was insane. Every girl was frantically checking her makeup, adjusting her elaborate sets, and obsessing over her appearance. Your wavy hair was ideally curled, bouncing against your shoulders, and you wore a tight, little black corset with crystal patches covering your nipples. The hypemanโs voice boomed over the speakers, introducing you to the roaring crowd, and you took one deep, grounding breath.
"Ladies and gentleman... Cherry!"
You walked out onto the stage with effortless grace, shaking your hips just a little to the slow, heavy thrum of the jazz music. You didn't care about the cheering audience, the clinking glasses, or the drunk soldiers shouting from the front rows. You were looking for only one man.
He was sitting by the corner booth, shrouded in shadows, just as the flame of his lighter flared to life. He lit his cigarette, the orange glow illuminating the rugged, scarred lines of his face. You met his gaze, and the rest of the room simply ceased to exist.
You met his gaze and started to move, your eyes locked onto his. The music was a slow, dripping blues rhythm, heavy on the bass, matching the frantic thumping of the heart in your chest. Paddy didn't move. He sat perfectly still in the dim corner, the cigarette glowing between his calloused fingers, a thick plume of smoke curling around his sharp jawline. But you could see his eyesโthose dark, lethal eyesโtracking every single micro-movement of your body.
You began with a slow, agonizing turn, letting the fabric of your long, feather-trimmed silk robe trail behind you like a second skin. You knew exactly what he liked. You knew the poetry he read, the violence he lived in, and the desperate need for softness that he hid beneath his terrifying exterior. You weren't just dancing; you were reciting a verse written in flesh.
With a deliberate, teasing smile, you reached up to the satin tie at your waist. You unknotted it slowly, holding his stare, watching his broad shoulders tense beneath his uniform shirt. You let the robe slip down one shoulder, exposing the smooth, pale curve of your skin against the smoky, hot atmosphere of the Cairo night. The crowd erupted into cheers, but you didn't even blink. Your focus was entirely on the way Paddyโs chest rose and fell, his breathing growing heavier even from across the room.
You stepped out of the robe completely, leaving it in a heap on the wooden stage, standing before him in nothing but the tight black corset and the glittering crystal patches over your nipples. You arched your back, a slow, sinful movement that made the crystals catch the stage lights, sending fractured beams of light across the ceiling. Paddy took a long, slow drag of his cigarette, his knuckles turning white where he held it. He looked like a man possessed, a tiger behind bars. Every slide of your hands up your thighs, every sultry tilt of your pelvis was designed to ruin him. You were taking your time, torturing him with the one thing he couldn't have in this exact moment. You turned your back to him, looking over your shoulder with a wicked smirk as you unlaced the back of the corset, inch by inch, letting the tight constraints give way to freedom. When the corset finally pooled at your feet, the theater went wild, but your eyes remained fixed on the corner booth. Paddyโs cigarette was completely forgotten, burning down to the filter between his fingers as his gaze burned holes through you.
Behind you, center stage, sat a large, brass clawfoot bathtub filled to the brim with warm water, a thick layer of fragrant bubbles floating on top. It was the centerpiece of your routine, a spectacle of pure luxury in the middle of a war-torn desert city.
You walked backward toward it, your hips swaying rhythmically, never breaking the heavy, invisible thread that connected your eyes to his. You stepped over the brass lip of the tub, dipping one elegant leg into the water, then the other, before sinking down into the warmth with a sigh that was amplified by the stage microphones. The water swirled around your bare skin, the bubbles clinging to your breasts and shoulders. From the ice bucket beside the tub, you wrapped your fingers around the neck of a chilled bottle of champagne. You didn't need a waiter. With a practiced, sharp twist of your wrist, the cork flew off with a loud pop, echoing over the music. A hiss of white foam spilled over your fingers. You didn't drink it. Holding the bottle high above your head, you tilted it. Paddy watched, his jaw clenching so hard the muscle ticked, as you poured the ice-cold, sparkling champagne directly over your collarbone. You gasped audibly at the shock of the temperature contrastโthe freezing alcohol cascading down your flushed, overheated skin, cutting through the warm, soapy water of the bath. It ran down the valley of your breasts, making your nipples harden instantly beneath the water's surface.
You took a handful of the champagne-infused bubbles and rubbed them slowly over your thighs, your chest, and your throat, your expression one of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. You were showing him exactly what you wanted him to do to you later. You were showing him how wet, how ready, and how utterly consumed by desire you were. Paddy suddenly stood up. The movement was so abrupt his chair scraped harshly against the floorboards, though the sound was drowned out by the cheering audience. He didn't look at anyone else. He threw the burning cigarette butt to the ground, crushed it under his boot, and walked out of the main hall, disappearing into the dark corridor that led toward the back of the theater.
You knew exactly where he was going. You gave the crowd one last, dazzling smile, sank beneath the water to wash the remaining champagne from your hair, and brought the performance to a close. The walk back to your private dressing room felt like a mile. The adrenaline was pulsing through your veins, making your hands shake as you wrapped yourself in a fresh, loose silk robe. Your skin was still tingling from the cold champagne, smelling of sweet grapes, expensive soap, and the musky heat of the Cairo air. You closed your dressing room door behind you, turning around to face the mirror, but you didn't even have time to sit down.
The door didn't just openโit rattled on its hinges as it was thrown back against the wall. Paddy stepped inside, his massive, imposing frame completely filling the doorway. He looked feral. His uniform cap was gone, his thick hair was a wild, unruly mess, and the top three buttons of his shirt were torn open. He reached behind him, slamming the heavy wooden door shut, and slid the iron bolt into place with a definitive, terrifying click.
"You little," he rasped, his voice a low, gravelly growl that vibrated straight through the floor and into the soles of your feet. "You absolute fucking minxโ
You didn't get to finish your sentence. He crossed the small dressing room in two predatory strides, his heavy combat boots thudding against the rug. Before you could even blink, his large, scarred hands gripped your waist with bruising force. He lifted you completely off your feet, your robe billowing around you, and slammed you backward against the heavy wooden vanity table. The impact sent perfume bottles, lipsticks, and glass jars of powder clattering to the floor, shattering on the ground, but neither of you cared.
Paddy crowded his body into yours, pinning your hips against the hard edge of the wood. His face was inches from yours, his breath hot, smelling of tobacco and raw lust. "You think itโs funny to do that to me?" he demanded, his fingers digging so deeply into your hips you knew there would be finger-shaped bruises there by morning. "To sit up there naked, pouring wine over yourself, letting every pathetic bastard in Cairo look at what belongs to me?"
"I did it for you," you whispered breathlessly, your heart hammering against your ribs like a trapped bird. "I only looked at you, Paddy."
"Damn right you did," he growled.
Then, his mouth crashed onto yours. Your tongues split into one, you finally taste him,raw, masuline and your. He pratcially eat you alive with your mouth. When you donโt have enugh air you stopped and look into his blue eyes, which they are dark.ย He didn't give you a second to recover your breath. With a low, gravelly grunt, Paddy gripped your waist and effortlessly hauled you off the vanity. Instead of letting you stand, he tossed you straight down to the ground. The heavy Persian rug scratched against your bare skin as you landed on your hands and knees.
"Ass up, face down," he ordered, his voice cracking with a terrifying authority. "Right there. Don't you dare move."
You didn't even think to disobey. You pressed your chest down against the floor, your elbows resting on the soft wool, arching your lower back until your hips were thrust high into the air, completely exposed to him. The silk robe was pushed up past your waist, bunching around your shoulders, leaving your bare cheeks and the wet, pink heat between your thighs completely defenseless.
Paddy stood over you for a fraction of a second, his shadow swallowing you whole. Then, without a word of warning, his massive, calloused hand came down in a vicious, heavy slap right across your left butt cheek.
The sharp, stinging impact echoed loudly through the quiet dressing room. You gasped, your hips jerking forward instinctively, a sharp cry catching in your throat.
"That's for making me sit there and watch you," he growled, and before the sting could even fade, his hand came down again, harder this time, across your right cheek.
"That's for every bastard in that room who thought they had a right to look at you," he muttered, his rhythm picking up. He began to rain down a relentless barrage of heavy, stinging spankings, his large palm striking your flesh over and over again. The heat spread like wildfire across your skin, turning your pale cheeks a deep, angry crimson. Each blow sent a jolt of pure, electric pleasure straight to your core, making you whimper and writhe against the floor. You dug your fingernails into the rug, crying out as the stinging ache turned into a thrumming, throbbing arousal that made you drip onto the carpet beneath you.
"Paddy, pleaseโ" you begged, your voice trembling.
"Quiet," he snapped, delivering one final, blistering slap that made your entire body shiver.
The room fell silent except for the sound of your ragged breathing and Paddy's heavy, predatory pants. You felt his large, rough hands settle onto your hips, his thumbs digging into your skin to hold you firmly in place. He leaned down, his heavy chest pressing against your elevated backside, his face hovering just inches from your heat. Slowly, deliberately, Paddy used his fingers to spread your ass cheeks wide, baring the most intimate, vulnerable parts of you to the dim, smoky light of the room. He stared down at your dripping pussy, watching the way it twitched in desperateย of him.
"Look at you," he whispered, a dark, wicked satisfaction bleeding into his voice. "So wet for me. Look how pretty you look, all red and open."
Before you could even process the words, he drove two thick, rough fingers deep inside you in one aggressive, violent shove.
You screamed out, your back arching violently as your internal walls gripped him. Paddy didn't care about being gentle; he began to finger you with a ruthless, punishing speed. His knuckles rubbed hard against your clitoris with every heavy, thrusting motion, pumping his fingers in and out of your tight warmth without an ounce of mercy. The sound of his fingers working inside you was loud and wet, mixing with your breathless, broken sobs as he aggressively drove you closer and closer to the edge of sanity. When the fingers started hitting the exact right spot, a wave of pure, overwhelming pleasure washed over you. Unable to help yourself, your body surrendered to the sensation, and you started to wiggle your hips against his hand, chasing the friction, desperately trying to ground yourself against his aggressive touch. But Paddy didn't want you taking control.
The moment you started moving on your own, a dark grunt of frustration tore from his chest. He was absolutely mad about it. He didn't want you chasing it; he wanted to be the one to give it to youโon his terms, and his terms only.
"Did I tell you to move?" he growled, his voice a dangerous, low rasp against your skin. "Keep your fucking hips still."
Before you could even whisper an apology, his massive hands gripped you with a renewed, punishing force. He grabbed your hips, pinning you ruthlessly to the floor, and used his powerful fingers to spread your ass cheeks even wider, completely exposing your swollen, dripping heat to his gaze. With you locked tightly in place, he adjusted his angle and began hitting your spot with brutal precision. Every aggressive thrust of his fingers hooked upward, perfectly striking the sensitive wall inside you over and over again. The deliberate, heavy rhythm was overwhelming. You dug your fingernails deep into the Persian rug, your head tossing wildly as a long, breathless moan tore from your throat, echoing against the walls of the dressing room. Hearing your undone, broken sound only made him meaner. As you moaned, Paddy leaned his heavy frame entirely over your arched back. He dipped his head down, and just as his fingers pushed deep inside you, he pressed the very tip of his tongue against your swollen, aching clit.
The contrast of his wet, hot tongue tracing that sensitive point while his fingers aggressively worked inside you sent a violent jolt of electricity straight down your spine. You felt the warm wave of your orgasm coming so incredibly fast, bubbling up from deep inside your belly until you were completely helpless against it. Your internal walls began to twitch and clench violently around his hand.
"Yeah, thatโs it, you greedy little thing," Paddy whispered maliciously, his dirty talk cutting through your haze of pleasure as he felt you starting to break. "Look how easily you fall apart when I treat you like the slut you are. Youโre dripping all over my hands. Take it. Come for me right now."
Your body completely gave out under the pleasure. The warm rush of your climax broke over you like a tidal wave, your muscles clamping down on his fingers so hard it forced another fractured, high-pitched scream from your lips while he kept his tongue pressed firmly against you, drinking in your ruin.
You didn't have a single second to rest. Your orgasm are still not wanished, still rippling through your thighs, your breath ragged and short, when Paddyโs heavy hands gripped your shoulders. Without an non of gentleness,he turning you around until you were kneeling on the rug directly in front of him. Your knees sank into the wool, your body trembling and entirely exposed as you looked up at him.
Paddy stood over you, his blue eyes burning with an unquenched, lethal heat. He reached up and tore his military uniform jacket off, throwing it carelessly into the dark corner of the room. Then came the sound that made your stomach flip with a mix of fear and desperate anticipation: the sharp, metallic clink of his heavy belt unbuckling, followed by the harsh rattle of his trousers being undone.
When he pushed his trousers down, he was fully revealed. He was rough, massive, and thick, pulsing with a dark, heavy vein that throbbed in tandem with his heartbeat. He looked twice as big in the cramped, dimly lit dressing room.
He didn't wait for an invitation.
Paddy reached down, his large, scarred hand tangling tightly into your ideally curled hair. His grip was firm, anchoring your head, and with a dominant tilt of his hips, he pushed his thick, rigid dick right against your lips. You parted them instantly, whimpering as the hot, pre-cum-slicked tip slid past your teeth.
You started bobbing your head, your hands wrapping around his thick thighs for balance as you took him in. But the slow pace wasn't enough for him. Paddyโs grip on your hair tightened, his knuckles pressing against your scalp as he took control of the rhythm, driving his hips forward.
Soon, he was pushing past the back of your throat, deep-throating you ruthlessly. Your eyes watered, your chest heaving against his shins as the sheer size of him stretched you wide, forcing tears to spill down your flushed cheeks.
Hearing you choke, his dirty talk returned, meaner and more demanding than before. He looked down at your face wrapped around his length, a dark, wicked smirk pulling at his lips.
"Yeah, take it all," he rasped, his voice dropping to a harsh, gravelly vibration that you could feel directly inside your throat. "You liked pouring that expensive wine over yourself on stage, didn't you? You wanted everyone to watch you drink it up."
He delivered a sharp, heavy thrust that went all the way to the hilt, burying his length deep into your throat, holding you there for a merciless second.
"Drink this instead," Paddy growled, his hips twitching as he forced you to take every single inch. "Drink my champagne, you greedy bitch. Suck it out of me."
You looked straight into his dark, blown-out eyes, the tears spilling over your lashes as you choked on his massive dick. The sheer size of him was overwhelming, stretching your throat to its absolute limit, but you didn't pull away. Instead, you reached down with trembling hands and grabbed his balls, squeezing them gently, letting him feel just how much you wanted every last drop of him.
You could feel the shift in his bodyโthe sudden, rigid tension in his thighs, the way his breath hitched in his chest. The sweet thing was coming.
Knowing he was right on the edge, you doubled your strength. Your chin ached from being stretched open so wide, your throat burning, but you bobbed your head with a sudden, frantic desperation, sucking him down as deeply as you could manage. Paddy looked down at you, his rugged face contorting into a mask of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. A low, rumbling moan tore from his throat as his entire body shuddered.
"Swallow it," he rasped, his fingers tightening in your hair, holding you completely captive against his hips as he pulsed inside your mouth. "Swallow every fucking drop of it."
He came hard, filling your mouth with his thick,hot release, and you did exactly what he commanded, swallowing him down until he finally let out a long, ragged breath and pulled back, leaving you breathless and dripping on the rug. But the night wasn't over. He lifted you up by your waist, your legs dangling, and the final dance was on your road.
Paddy hauled your body over to the heavy wooden dressing table, clearing the rest of the clutter with a sweeping strike of his arm. He pulled you onto the wood, forcing you onto your hands and knees. The cold, hard wood bit into your skin, a sharp contrast to the burning heat radiating between your thighs.
Before you could settle, he grabbed your hair again, pulling your head back with enough force to make you look up.
"Look at the mirror," he commanded, his voice a dangerous, gravelly whisper against your ear. "Watch me when I fuck you."
In the reflection of the glass, surrounded by the warm glow of the dressing room bulbs, you saw yourselfโflushed, undone, and entirely exposed. And standing right behind you was Paddy, looking feral, his chest heaving, his gaze locked onto your reflection.
Without another word, he guided his rigid, slick length back to your dripping pussy. He didn't offer a warning, and he didn't ease into it. Paddy drove himself completely inside you with a brutal, crushing thrust that made the entire wooden table groan beneath your weight.
You let out a loud, high-pitched cry, but he was already moving, fucking you hard, his hips slamming against your bruised backside with a relentless, punishing rhythm. Every stroke was deep and unyielding, forcing you to watch your own undoing in the mirror while he claimed you completely in the dark Cairo night.
You grabbed the edge of the wood, your fingernails digging into the grain of the dressing table as it started to shake violently under the force of his harsh, unforgiving thrusts. The rhythm was punishing, a relentless, heavy pounding that rattled the mirror in its frame, but you didnโt dare to cut the eye contact in the reflection. You kept your gaze locked onto his dark, blown-out eyes in the glass, your chest heaving, your lips parted in a breathless gasp with every slam of his hips. Seeing your total submission in the mirror, a wicked, dominant smile pulled at Paddy's lips. He shifted his grip, grabbing your hips with a brutal force that anchored you flat against the wood, and started to bottom youโdriving his massive length so deep with every single strike that he was hitting the absolute base of your womb.
"You belong to me. Say it!" he demanded, his voice a gravelly, breathless command that vibrated right through your spine.
"I'm yoursโPaddy, I'm yours!" you cried out, your voice breaking as the sheer depth of him stretched you wide.
"Yeah, good girl," he growled against the back of your neck, his hot breath branding your skin as his pace became frantic. "Gosh, you're so tight... tighter than you were last week."
He was driving you completely over the edge, as he adjusted his angle and started hitting your G-spot with every savage, upward thrust. The sensation was overwhelming, an intense, deep friction that made you feel him all the way in your belly. Your vision blurred, the room spinning around the edge of the mirror, but you kept your eyes locked onto his, completely trapped under his lethal gaze.
"Paddy! Paddy, please!" you gasped, your body reaching its absolute breaking point.
You looked into his eyes, your internal muscles violently squeezing into him, clamping down around his thick length in a desperate, tightening hold. Paddy let out a low, animalistic roar as he felt your walls seize him, crushing grip of your orgasm. It was the final trigger. He drove himself into you one last, deepest time, pinning your hips to the table as he felt you two coming together, his own boiling-hot release flooding deep inside you as you both fractured in the dark. He growled when he came, a deep, rumbling vibration that echoed off the wooden walls of the room as his body locked up completely, pinning you to the table one last time.
When he finally pulled out of you, your legs felt like jelly, completely unable to support your own weight. You began to slide off the edge of the wood, but Paddy caught your fragile body in his massive arms before you could fall. He lowered you gently onto the soft Persian rug, his large, scarred hands cradling you as he lay down right beside you.
The room was silent except for the sound of your frantic breathing. You lay there, your bare skin flushed red from his hands, looking deep into his eyes. The terrifying, feral war dog was gone, replaced by the quiet, intense soul that only you ever got to see.
He brushed a damp curl away from your forehead, his touch surprisingly soft now, his gaze locked onto yours.He broke the silence as he began to recite the poetry he carried in his dark mindโa famous verse by Charles Baudelaire from The Carrionย
"Yes! thus will you be, queen of the Graces,
After the last sacraments,
When you go beneath grass and luxuriant flowers,
To molder among the bones of the dead.
Then, O my beauty! say to the worms who will
That I have kept the form and the divine essence"
You smiled softly, the bruising ache of his touch still humming in your bones as you rested your head against his bare chest, listening to the steady, heavy beat of his heart in the Cairo night.
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