The door to your apartment barely clicks shut before his hands are on you, heavy and possessive. There is no preamble, no polite transition from the moonlit date you just shared to the charged atmosphere of your living room. He wastes no time as his hands find your waist, backing you into the nearest wall before he leans down, his lips colliding with yours in a kiss that's both hungry and demanding.
His big hands find the hem of your black dress, bunching the fabric up until he can feel the warmth of your thighs. There's nothing in the world he wants more than to flip you around, pin you to the wall, and fuck you until the sun comes up. But with you, he's patient. He's been patient for months now, enduring endless nights of ignoring how agonizingly hard he is simply to make sure you're comfortable.
"Do you have any idea how much I wanted to do this while we were sitting across from each other?" He rasps against your mouth, though he doesn't give you the chance to answer. Instead, he scoops you up. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, the fabric of your skirt bunching between the both of you.
You barely register as he carries you to the couch, far too focused on the way you can feel his cock through the leather of his pants. Usually, it frightens you a bit, makes you feel shy and nervous all at once. Tonight, it sparks a fire within you. Sylus sinks into the couch, his head tilted back against the cushions as he looks down at you. You're perched firmly in his lap, your skirt hiked up high around your hips.
It's the most indecent you've ever been around him. You want more.
The movement starts shyly, a slow rock of your hips as your fingers find the silky strands of his silver hair all while you lean into him. His hands instantly find your hips, his thumbs digging into your skin with a pressure that promises faint bruises by morning. He groans into the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin, while he moves underneath you, pushing his clothed cock right up against you to take any friction you're offering.
He's needy. He's desperate. He's so hard that it aches. You can feel the slight tremor in his muscles, the way his hands tighten just a fraction with every slide against his lap, the sheer force of will it takes for him not to tear your dress away. For weeks, he has played this game of restraint, never pushing, never asking for more than you were willing to give. Even now, as he grinds against you, he stays within the boundaries you've set.
But you want more. Just as he's been holding himself back, so have you. Each time he kisses you, every time he pulls you into his lap, you can feel that familiar ache bloom between your thighs. You've been wanting him for a long time, just far too shy to actually urge him to do more than just hold you. Now, fueled by a few drinks over dinner and the heat of him against you, all you can think about is how he'd fuck you.
"Sylus... I need more." The words leave your mouth, a soft, trembling confession. The effect on Sylus is instantaneous. He freezes beneath you, his entire body locking up like a coiled spring. The desperate, hungry roll of his hips stops, and for a fraction of a second, the only sound in your apartment is the ragged, harsh sound of his breathing as it mixes with yours.
He blinks, his crimson eyes searching your face for even a hint of hesitation or doubt. Finding none, something shifts in him. The raw, manic desperation in him suddenly melts. He forces a long, heavy breath through his teeth, intentionally relaxing the tight grip on your hips, though his large hands remain firmly anchored there.
"Are you sure, kitten?"
"I'm sure. I want you..." You nod, your fingers tightening in his silver hair as you arch your body closer to him.
He doesn't rush you even though you can feel the frantic rhythm of his heart. He shifts, his movements turning agonizingly slow and deliberate as he catches your jaw in one hand, tilting your head up to capture your mouth in a kiss once more. His tongue slides into your mouth, moving against yours in a warm, wet rhythm that mimics the very thing your body is aching for. He drinks in your gasps, tasting you completely, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw to keep you grounded as the heat between your thighs builds into a sharp, sweet ache.
While he keeps you entirely consumed by the kiss, his other hand slides down, his long fingers trailing along your thigh before slowly trailing upward, giving you every opportunity to pull away. When you don't, a satisfied hum leaves him as his fingers find the damp fabric of your panties, his thumb easily trailing along the fabric just centimeters away from where you want him. You whimper into his mouth, hands giving a sharp tug at his hair, to which he only groans in response.
He can't help being a tease, even when he's so desperate to feel your cunt around him. His thumb swipes right across the center of the damp fabric, pausing to press firm, slow circles right against your clit until your thighs twitch on either side of him. The contrast is dizzying, the intense, possessive demand of his mouth paired with the slow, torturous patience of his hand making your head swim.
He breaks the kiss just enough to trail his lips down your jawline, his breath hot against your neck as he moves to whisper in your ear.
"I'm going to make this perfect for you. But you're too tight, sweetheart. Let me fix that."
Before you can process his words, Sylus grips your waist and smoothly readjusts you, turning to press you against the plush cushions of the couch. He moves down your body, sinking to his knees on the floor just between your thighs. He doesn't waste a second as his fingers hook into the waistband of your panties, tugging the fabric down your thighs until he's tossing it to the floor, utterly forgotten as he looks up at you.
The sudden rush of cool air against your cunt has your thighs clamping shut. You shift on the couch, one hand reaching down to find his hair once more, intending on tugging him back up to you.
"Sylus-" Your voice catches, a sudden wave of nerves making you squirm before him.
"Shh." He purrs, his hands slowly, gently sliding up your legs until he's coaxing your thighs apart once more. In the dim lighting of your apartment, you can see the soft crimson glow of his eye. You've seen it a time or two before, mostly when you know he's hard. Seeing it now has a shiver running through your body. He knows you want him, and you're well aware of it.
"Just look at me. Trust me."
You keep your eyes locked on his, your fingers trembling where they're tangled in his silver hair, anchoring yourself to the heated, crimson glow of his gaze. He doesn't hesitate. Sylus leans forward, his broad shoulders nudging your legs apart as he buries his face directly between your thighs.
He doesn't ease you into it. The first swipe of his tongue is hot and heavy, swiping right through your slick folds until he settles on your swollen clit. The taste of you has a groan leaving him, your body arching off of the plush cushions as you try and register the sensation of his tongue on you. A ragged gasp hitches in your throat, your small hand tugging at his hair, but he doesn't pull back. Instead, his large hands slide up to cup the undersides of your thighs, his thumbs pressing firmly into your skin.
He treats you like something entirely precious, yet the hunger in his movements is undeniable. His tongue moves over your clit in long, slow strokes, intentionally pushing past your shyness, using the wet, warm friction of his mouth until all you can focus on is him. Your breath comes in short, whimpered moans, filling your living room along with the wet glide of his tongue along your dripping folds.
When he's certain you won't try and clamp your thighs around his head, one hand releases you, ghosting along your skin until one long finger is pressed right against your entrance. He doesn't rush. He takes his time as he circles you, ensuring he's covered in your juices before slowly, he pushes into you.
You let out a startled whine at the intrusion, your velvety walls instantly clenching around him, but he simply continues that slow pace, lazily pumping his finger into you all while he licks and sucks at your clit. The moment you relax, he adds a second finger, curling them inside you as if he has all the time in the world. You squeeze him, trying to coax him deeper, needing more.
The pleasure builds too fast, the friction of his fingers combined with the wet strokes of his tongue too much for you to handle. Your head rolls back against the couch, a loud, needy cry leaving your lips as you fall apart around him. Sylus hums in response, curling his fingers just right until you're nearly melting right into the couch.
"Sylus!" You gasp, your thighs trembling around him, your hips bucking against his face. It's not enough. It's far too much. You don't know if you want him to stop or continue. Still, you whine as he pulls away, his fingers slowly sliding out of your cunt only for his hands to find your hips. His mouth is soaked, glistening in the dim lighting, a smug grin planted on his lips.
He doesn't let you linger in the afterglow for long. Before your thighs can even begin to stop shaking, Sylus moves. He shifts between your legs, his big hands coaxing you to sit up properly before they dip around behind you, finding the zipper of your little black dress. Your cheek presses into his chest, listening to the rapid thrum of his heartbeat.
"Let's get the rest of this off you." He murmurs, the metallic rasp of the zipper your only warning before your dress loosens around your body. His hands guide the straps down your arms, his touch leaving goosebumps against your overly sensitive skin as you wiggle out of your dress. Next comes your bra, unceremoniously discarded until you are completely bare beneath him.
Sylus places his large palms on your hips, effortlessly guiding your body until you're laying perfectly flat against the plush cushions of the couch. He crawls up beneath your knees, his heavy weight hovering over you, completely pinning you to the cushions. You blink up at him, your chest heaving, your mind still entirely blissed out from the way he just ate you like he'd been starving.
Then, one hand moves to his own waist. The distinct, sharp click of his belt buckle echoes through the quiet apartment, followed by the slow, heavy rasp of the zipper as he undoes his leather jeans. Your eyes instinctively track the movement, your gaze dropping down to watch his big hands.
You never get the chance.
Sylus catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, gently but firmly tilting your face right back up to force your eyes to meet his. You want to kiss the cocky grin right off of his face.
"Don't look down. Keep your eyes on me, kitten." He leans down, closing the small distance between your bodies. His hand releases your jaw, his large palm instead pressing flat against the plush cushion right beside your head, pinning you beneath his massive frame. He captures your lips in a deep, bruising kiss that you eagerly return, your hands reaching up to grip his broad shoulders.
But as he licks his way into your mouth once more, the unmistakable rustle of leather jeans shifting against your bare thigh cuts through the haze in your mind. The reality of the narrow living room couch suddenly hits you. This isn't quite how you imagined losing your virginity. This isn't quite how you're wanting it.
You tilt your head away, breaking the connection with a soft, breathless gasp. "Sylus... wait."
His brow furrows slightly, his crimson eyes instantly scanning your face for any sign of fear, his body freezing in place. "Changed your mind?" he asks, his voice dropping into a low, concerned rasp.
"No." You whisper, a faint blush warming your cheeks as you look up at him. "I just... I want to be in bed with you. Not on the couch."
The tension in his shoulders immediately bleeds away, replaced by a low, amused huff. "Demanding, aren't we?" he teases, a dangerous glint returning to his eyes. "Right when I have you right where I've been wanting you, you decide to change venues."
Even so, he loops an arm around your waist, pulling your naked body against his even as he lifts off of the couch. You wrap your legs around him again, ankles crossing just behind his back as your arms drape across his shoulders. You're nervous, undeniably so, but you trust him. You trust that he won't give you more than you can handle.
Your bedroom is dark, illuminated only by the faint moonlight filtering through the window. Sylus steps up to the mattress and carefully lowers you down, laying you flat against the cool, crisp sheets. The contrast of the fabric makes you shiver, but before the chill can even settle, the mattress dips heavily under his weight. Sylus settles between your legs, his looming silhouette completely blocking out the moonlight as he hovers over you.
He kneels there for just a brief moment, his large hands reaching down to grip the hem of his black sweater. He isn't going to fully strip out of his clothes. He knows you well enough to know you’ll be completely melted and unable to walk once he’s done with you, and he has every intention of carrying you and taking care of you afterward. Instead, he settles on tugging his sweater over his head, tossing it to the floor with a soft thud before crawling over you, his larger frame pinning you to the mattress.
"Better?" He asks.
You nod in response, your fingers now roaming the bare skin of his shoulders like you're trying to fully commit him to memory. He hums in acknowledgment as he leans down, his mouth capturing your own in a kiss that steals the very breath from your lungs. You arch into him, wet and wanting despite your nerves, and that's all the encouragement Sylus needs.
One hand sneaks between your bodies, shoving the leather of his pants down just enough to free his fat cock, the hard, thick length of him immediately pressing right against your dripping cunt. He doesn't instantly push his way in. He wants to. He's desperate to feel the way you'd clench around him, but he wants your first time to be everything you've ever dreamed of. Instead, he shifts his hips, sliding his cock through your slick folds for a few heavy moments, ensuring that your juices thoroughly coat him.
Then, the angle shifts as he lines himself up, oh so slowly pushing into your tight heat.
A sharp gasp tears from your lips as the initial stretch turns into a deep burn. You can't possibly manage to fit him, not when just the tip has you feeling so very full. But Sylus is quick to pause, his entire body tense as he presses a kiss to your cheek, your forehead, anywhere he thinks might offer some distraction and comfort. You feel so sore already even though you've barely begun.
"I know, I know. You're okay. Just breathe for me, kitten." He murmurs, his tone undeniably soft and affectionate despite the way you're clamped around him. Under his praise and the kisses, your body slowly reacts, your velvety walls relaxing around him. He takes the opportunity to push a bit further, pausing only when your breath leaves you in that sharp hiss.
Inch by agonizingly slow inch, he continues that torturous cycle, prioritizing your comfort over his own wants until he's fully seated inside you, tip of his cock kissing your cervix.
"I feel so full." You whisper, your cheeks flush as you tilt your head to look up at him. That cocky grin of his only returns as he pulls nearly all the way out only to slowly slide back into your cunt, testing your body, ensuring you're fully relaxed and wanting. You let out a quiet whine. The sting is still slightly there, but you don't want to wait. You need him.
"Sylus, please." You breathe, your hips tilting upward to meet his in a silent, desperate plea for him to continue, to finally fuck you like you know he's been wanting.
That single word breaks whatever remaining thread of restraint he was holding onto.
Sylus leans down, burying his face in the crook of your neck as his hips rock forward with sudden, breathtaking force. He thrusts into you, burying himself to the hilt, the heavy impact forcing a loud, helpless gasp from your lips. Your fingers immediately claw into the solid muscle of his back, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist to lock him close as he establishes a deep, punishing rhythm.
He moves like a man possessed, yet even in his hunger, he remains entirely attuned to you. His hands slide under your lower back, lifting your hips slightly off the mattress to alter the angle, making every deep, heavy thrust hit the exact spot that has your walls clenching around him like a vice. The wet, rhythmic slapping of his skin against yours echoes through the quiet bedroom, mixing with your breathless cries.
"You're so tight, kitten." He rasps against your ear, his voice completely wrecked, his breath coming in hot, ragged pants. "Fucking perfect. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"
You nod frantically against his shoulder, your mind too far gone to form syllables, your body far too focused on the friction of his cock plunging into you over and over again.
"So beautiful. All mine." He murmurs, peppering frantic, heated kisses against your forehead, your lips, your throat, completely worshipping you even as he fucks you into your mattress.
The overwhelming praise combined with the relentless, deep friction pushes you right over the edge for the second time that night. Your vision dots with stars, your thighs trembling violently around his waist as your body suddenly locks up, a piercing, needy cry ripping from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, your tight walls squeezing him in intense, rhythmic spasms.
Sylus lets out a raw, broken groan as you clamp onto him, your velvety walls squeezing his cock like you want him to stay buried inside your cunt forever. Just the thought has his hips stuttering against you, his pace faltering as his entire body trembles. You hear him curse under his breath, feel the way he presses into you like he's trying to merge you two together. Any other time, he might have felt the tiniest hint of shame for coming just at the thought of fucking you, but for now, all he can feel is intense satisfaction, like he's right where he wants to be.
He stays buried inside you for a long, quiet minute, his massive frame completely crushing you into the mattress as his chest heaves against yours. His breath is hot and ragged against your neck, his hands grasping your hips to keep you still beneath him.
Slowly, the trembling in his muscles begins to ease. Sylus shifts his weight, propping himself up on his forearms so he can look down at you. He reaches up, his large thumb gently brushing away a strand of hair plastered to your temple, his touch incredibly tender compared to the ruthlessness of his pace just moments ago.
"You okay, kitten?" He asks.
You can only manage a weak, dazed nod, your body feeling entirely heavy against the sheets, completely blissed out. A soft, breathless hum escapes you as you lazily trace the lines of muscle along his bicep.
A slow, knowing smirk gently tugs at the corner of his lips, that classic cocky confidence returning to his face as he notes just how thoroughly ruined you are beneath him.
"Told you so." He purrs softly, leaning down to press a sweet, lingering kiss to your forehead. "I knew you wouldn't be able to walk after this. Good thing I have no intention of letting you out of this bed anyway."
You're pacing, your voice echoing off the minimalist walls of Sylus's bedroom as you recount the sheer monotony of your day. It was boring and endless, but now that you're finally here, the physical reality of him is making it worse. Your hormones are a mess, leaving you restless and wanting. Leaving you frustrated at just how good Sylus looks.
He's leaning against the edge of his bed, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching you with an intensity that makes your skin tingle. He looks almost amused, which adds to your frustration.
"It's just not fair." You mutter, stopping right in front of him. You have to tilt your head back just to meet his eyes. "That you have to be so... huge."
Sylus shifts, raising an eyebrow. You don't miss the way his gaze drops down the length of your body before returning to your face.
"Huge?"
"You know what I mean. It's distracting and annoying." You huff, gesturing vaguely at the sheer span of his shoulders, the way he towers over you until all you can focus on is him. You purposely leave out the fact that you deeply enjoy how much bigger he is than you.
"Is it?" He steps right into your space, his big hands finding your hips. He easily guides you back, his crimson eyes never leaving yours until your thighs hit the edge of his heavy obsidian desk.
"I thought you enjoyed feeling delicate and small underneath my hands."
"That's... not the point." You mumble, but your protest is weak.
Sylus doesn't give you the chance to argue further. In one fluid motion, he spins you around, one hand moving to your back as he presses your chest down against the cool surface of the desk. Before you can try and squirm away, maybe wiggle free and accuse him of being a massive tease, his hand is sliding up further.
His fingers tangle in your hair, gripping firmly at the roots. He tugs your head back, not painfully, but with enough strength that you're forced to look up. Forced to look directly into the floor-to-ceiling mirror positioned just across from the desk.
You can't remember when he'd bought it. You didn't care. Your brain was actively short-circuiting at the sight of him looming just behind you, tall and intimidating and devastatingly handsome. You look so fragile pinned beneath him, your body almost entirely covered by his massive silhouette.
"Tell me again how unfair it is." He commands, his voice a low, lazy drawl that has you shivering against the wood of his desk.
"Tell me you hate how easily I can break you."
You can't find the words. You can only watch in the mirror as he leans down, his mouth brushing your ear while his eyes remain locked on your reflection. With your chest pressed to the desk and your vision fixed on the mirror, any ounce of logic within your mind evaporates. Your body, fueled by the heat of ovulation and a desperate, needy ache, decides to stop pretending you aren't right where you want to be.
You let out a shaky breath, and before you can think better of it, your hips move. You grind right back into him, instinctively seeking him out, watching his reflection as his gaze drops down to your hips. You hear the sharp, sudden intake of his breath. His approval.
Sylus's grip on your hair relaxes, but before you can press your cheek against his desk, his fingers wrap firmly around your throat. You nearly moan at the sensation of his big hand around you, but you bite it back at the last second.
"Look at you." He purrs as he presses closer to you, grinding his clothed cock right against your ass. You finally do let out a quiet noise, your breath hitching each time his body presses your hips further against the edge of his desk.
The friction is enough to drive you insane. With every slow, deliberate roll of your hips, you feel the heavy, unyielding weight of him through the layers of your clothes. You're chasing that pressure, chasing the feeling of his cock, even through denim and leather. It doesn't matter to you. Any sort of friction is good enough.
You watch in the reflection as Sylus clenches his jaw, a flicker of satisfaction crossing your features for just a second. Maybe now he can suffer just like you're suffering. But then you feel it. As you push back, harder this time, you feel the unmistakable, rigid length of his cock pressed firmly against your ass. A soft, broken whimper escapes you.
"Sylus..." You whine, your nails digging into the wood of his desk. You're dripping, absolutely soaked, your cunt clenching around nothing at the sheer anticipation of feeling him stretch your pussy. You want him. You don't care how pathetic it makes you.
The way you're unraveling under his touch is clearly the highlight of his night. You can see that smug triumph written all over his face as you watch his reflection, your body trembling against him.
"So desperate to be filled by me that you've forgotten how to breathe." He mocks. The humiliation should sting, but it only sends a sharp jolt through your body, your thighs squeezing together to try at any ounce of friction. You let out another whimper, silently pleading for him to stop talking and start doing.
He lets out a huff of amusement as he tilts your head to the side, his large body nearly covering yours as he leans down to press his lips to your neck. His teeth graze against your skin in a sharp nip that sends a fresh wave of arousal through you.
"Keep those eyes on the mirror, kitten."
Then his hands are releasing you only to move to your waistband. You don't dare look away from the mirror, eyes fixated on him even as his fingers effortlessly pop the button of your jeans. He doesn't make you wait as he shoves the denim down your legs, letting the fabric bunch around your knees.
He straightens behind you, one large hand planted firmly between your shoulder blades to keep you pinned while the other skims over the damp fabric of your panties. He lets out a low, amused hum as his fingers trace the outline of your slick underwear, watching you tremble before his thumb finds your clit.
"Dripping for me already? You really are a mess." He says. You don't care. You're far too focused on the way his thumb circles your aching clit. He watches every little reaction of yours in the mirror, red eyes fixated on your face as you whimper and whine for him. It's ridiculous how badly you want him, but it only makes Sylus more smug.
He hooks a finger into your panties, but rather than take them off, he simply pulls the soaked fabric to the side. You watch him pull back, watch him suck in a breath at the sight of your glistening cunt. Then a shattered moan leaves you as a long finger is pushed into you.
You clamp down on him instantly, greedy and undeniably needy, trying to rock back into him. You need more. You don't care what he gives to you as long as it's more. Sylus lazily pumps his finger into you, slow and steady, feeling the way you so easily relax around him.
Then he gives you another one, curling his fingers against your velvety walls. You cry out, your hips jerking against him with every slow, deliberate drag of his fingers. You barely register the reflection in the mirror anymore.
"Sylus, please... Need more." You beg him.
That really gets his attention.
"You want more?" He echoes, amusement threading his tone. "You're already struggling with two fingers, kitten. Imagine how much trouble you're going to be in when I actually give you what you're asking for." Still, he's not one to deny you, especially when you're so wet and clenched around his fingers.
He continues those lazy, slow movements, pushing his fingers deep into you like he's searching for something. You open your mouth to beg him again, but all that comes out is a sharp, ragged moan as his fingers press into a particularly sensitive spot.
Your entire body jerks underneath him, earning a hum of acknowledgment from him. His free hand finds your hair once more, forcing your head back until you have no choice but to watch yourself in the mirror as his fingers press into that spot over and over and over again. If it wasn't for the desk, you suspect you might have stumbled. Your legs feel like jelly, your cunt clenched around him like you're trying to keep him there forever.
Just when he has you close, so stupidly close, he pauses. You whimper as he slides his fingers out, your hips tilting to try and follow him.
"Patience, kitten." Sylus purrs, smacking your ass with a sharp crack before he releases you. In the reflection, you can see his hands go to his leather pants. You watch as he undoes his belt, the metal clinking softly, the metallic drag of his zipper sending a shiver down your spine.
The moment he shoves his own pants down to free his fat cock, your breath hitches almost violently. He's so big, so thick, that for a moment, you wonder if you should have been more patient with his fingers.
But Sylus doesn't give you the chance to think too hard on it.
He steps closer to you, one palm pressed against the small of your back to hold you still while the other wraps around his cock. He guides the tip through your slick folds, brushing against your swollen clit until you're squirming and whimpering just underneath him.
Then he's pushing into your cunt, the stretch earning a loud, broken moan. Your hips rock back into him, pushing him impossibly deeper. Sylus groans at the feeling of your velvety walls clamping around him, clinging onto his cock like a vice.
The sensation is overwhelming. He's so big that it feels like he's taking up every bit of space you have to give, stretching you until you're sure you'll snap. You only want more. Your nails scrape against the obsidian desk, searching for a grip as he thrusts into you, his rhythm slow and punishingly deep.
"Look at how well you take me, kitten." He grunts, his voice strained and low as his hips rock into yours. He leans back, his gaze dropping to your cunt as he watches the way you grip onto him so tightly. You watch that cocky satisfaction cross his features within the mirror, your own breath coming in pathetic little hitches.
"I'm too big, right?" He mocks, slowly pulling back until his cock nearly slips out before slamming back into you, forcing a loud cry from your lips. "Isn't that what you were whining about?"
You can't even answer. You can only watch your own reflection in the mirror, your eyes blown wide and mouth hanging open in a silent scream of pleasure as he proves that you were made to take his cock. You feel so impossibly full and he's so deep, knocking right into your cervix with every roll of his hips.
Sylus isn't the least bit surprised when he feels you suddenly clamp down on him, your smaller body squirming against his desk. Your orgasm is intense, has you practically screaming his name as he fucks you like he's trying to break you. His gaze shifts to the mirror, watching as you squeeze your eyes shut, watching the way you grasp at the edge of his desk like it might help keep you stable.
He doesn't let up. If anything, his pace gets faster, deeper, more brutal, his balls smacking into your clit with every thrust. It's loud and sloppy, the sound of skin on skin echoing in his bedroom. He leans down, his chest pressed against your back, pinning you further to the desk, as his hand comes up to wrap around your throat once more.
You tremble around him, your head falling back against his shoulder as he holds you, your cunt weakly clenching around his cock. His hand tightens just a fraction around your throat, never to hurt, but to remind you exactly who owns this moment.
"Look at you taking every inch." He rasps, his voice broken and ragged.
"You were built for this, kitten. Built to be filled up and ruined by me." He groans, a low, guttural sound as his thrusts become shorter, harder, snapping your hips forward against the desk with every strike. "I'm going to fill you so deep you'll feel me in your dreams." His teeth nip at your shoulder before he tilts his head, his mouth finding your jaw.
With one final, punishing rock of his hips, he slams into you, his entire frame momentarily locking up. He curses under his breath as his hand moves to your shoulder then your hip, squeezing you as he cums deep inside your greedy cunt. You're sore, deliciously so, yet you roll your hips against him, velvety walls clenching around him just to feel the shudder that runs through his body.
"There." He finally mumurs, that lazy, arrogant drawl thicker than usual as he presses a kiss to your cheek. "Day fixed?"
All you can do is nod, your body slumping against his desk, deeply satisfied.
You're frustrated. So deeply, incredibly frustrated that you could cry. Your night was supposed to be perfect. You'd cracked open the expensive wine Sylus had gifted you forever ago, intenting on getting drunk, using your favorite vibrator until your legs were shaking, then having the best sleep of your life.
Only the first part was going to plan.
You're a drunk mess, cheeks flushed and eyes glassy as you stare at the sleek silicone device in your hands. Usually it's perfect. Usually it does its job well. But tonight, you just can't figure it out. You would get so close, so stupidly, agonizingly close, but then it would fail. Right at the last second, it would somehow end up two inches above or below your aching clit, leaving you incredibly frustrated.
So you do the only thing your drunk brain can make sense of.
You call Sylus.
The ringing doesn't last long. It never does when you call him.
"It's three in the morning. This better be a crisis, kitten." He says, his voice deep and surprisingly alert considering how late it was. Part of you wonders if he ever sleeps when he's not with you.
"Sylussssss." You whine, the name rolling off your tongue. "Issa... it's a 'mergency. A real one. My fav'rit... It's broke. Won't work 'nymore."
There's a brief sharp silence on the other end before you hear the muffled rustle of clothes. You can only assume Sylus is putting his jacket on.
"What stopped working? Are you hurt?"
"No, m'annoyed!" You huff, kicking a leg out from underneath your heavy comforter. "I need it. S'like it's avoidin' me..."
"I'll be there in ten minutes. Stay put." He commands, the protective, possessive edge of his tone sending a shiver down your spine.
"Yessir." You mumble before the line goes dead.
True to his word, you hear the front door open ten minutes later, the lock clicking softly. Then, the heavy thud of combat boots against your floor, growing louder until the bedroom door swings wide open. Sylus stands in the threshold, a dark silhouette against the hallway light. His crimson eyes immediately sweep the room for a threat.
He notes the half-empty bottle of expensive red on the nightstand, the precarious tilt of the empty glass, and then finally, he sees you curled up underneath the sheets and that lavender vibrator just a few inches away.
He exhales a sharp, controlled breath, the tension leaving his shoulders only to be replaced by that smug cockiness of his. He's found something much more interesting than sleep.
"A real emergency, hm?" He drawls as he strides into the room, the leather of his jacket creaking softly. He stops at the edge of the bed, arms crossed over his chest as he watches you try and properly focus on him.
You look up at him, your vision swimming just enough to make you see two of him standing right at the foot of your bed.
"S'defective." You groan, gesturing vaguely at the device. "I try... it jus'moves! It's mean."
You hear Sylus huff in amusement, though you don't have a sharp remark to give him in return. Your mind is too foggy from the wine, too focused on fixing your damn vibrator so you can just go to bed.
Sylus reaches out, his large hands making the toy look impossibly small by comparison. He turns it over once, his thumb grazing the power button. The soft hum fills the silence of the room. He blinks at it before glancing back at you, amusement written all over his features. He clicks it off once more.
"It seems perfectly functional to me, kitten."
You just shake your head at him.
He tosses the device back onto the bed as he shrugs off his leather jacket, letting it fall to the floor with a heavy thud. He doesn't care. He's far more focused on the idea that you'd essentially been edging yourself for god knows how long because you were too drunk to hold the damn toy in place.
"You called me here at three in the morning because you can't figure out how to work your vibrator?" He asks as his hands find the edge of the sheet you've somehow managed to get tangled up in. With a firm tug, he yanks the blanket off of you, his breath hitching just seconds later.
You're bare from the waist down, and Sylus's red eyes instantly roam your body without an ounce of shame. You shift against the pillows, your thighs falling open. The sight nearly brings him to his knees. You're soaked, pussy dripping as if he'd been doing nothing but fucking you with his tongue for hours.
"Oh sweetie... You should have just told me you were lonely. I'm much better at following orders than a piece of silicone." He purrs as he moves around to the side of the bed, his fingers ghosting up your thigh. He stops himself before he reaches your cunt, knowing if he touches you, he won't be using that precious vibrator like you want.
"S'fast. And it... doesn't talk back. Good at gettin' the job done." You mumble, watching as Sylus sits on the edge of your bed to undo his combat boots. You giggle at him as if having him there is the funniest thing in the world to you, too drunk to notice that he's fighting back his own wants to make sure your need is satisfied.
Within moments, he's settling between your knees, vibrator in his large hands as he stares down at you. You're a mess of drunken need, but he's never been able to turn you down, especially when you look so desperate to be ruined.
His free hand finds your hip as he drags the tip of the silicone through your glistening folds, clicking it back on the moment it reaches your swollen clit. Your back instantly arches off the bed, your breath leaving you in a loud cry. It had felt so good when you'd been holding it, but now that it was Sylus instead, it was even better.
"Just lay back and relax. I have you." He murmurs, taking in the way your hands grasp onto the sheets like you might tear them. He drinks in every little response from you. The way he has to coax your legs back open because you've clamped your thighs around his hand, the way you tremble just underneath the lowest setting.
Perhaps if he was nicer, he might have left it on the lowest setting and gently brought you to the edge. He doesn't care that you're probably overstimulated and overly sensitive. If anything, it just makes him want to be even more mean.
With two clicks of the button, he has the vibrator on the highest setting. Your hips immediately buck underneath him, head thrashing against your pillows as a loud, shattered moan leaves your mouth. It's too much, far too much for you to handle, and yet you don't have it in you to beg him to turn it down.
His free hand grasps your hip firmly, pushing you down into the mattress as he circles your clit with that little buzzing piece of silicone.
"That's why it hasn't been working for you. You can't run when it gets intense, kitten. That's not how it works." He tells you, though you can barely focus on it, too caught up in the sensation of a strong vibration against your already sensitive clit.
"Sylus!" You manage to gasp out, your legs clamping shut around his hand. This time, he doesn't coax them open. He simply throws his leg over your thigh, using his body weight to keep you nice and spread for him all while he keeps that steady vibration against you.
You can feel how hard he is against your thigh, how much his cock is straining against his leather jeans.
"You can take it. Can't you?" He asks with absolutely no intentions of clicking back to a lower setting. You shake your head, too gone to speak properly even as you try to move away, shift your hips away from the intense vibrations.
Sylus just holds you still, forcing you to take it. You manage to lock eyes with him, intending on pleading for mercy, but you don't get the chance.
Your orgasm is intense, has you arching off the bed until you're certain your spine might snap, your choked moan echoing within the silence of your room. Sylus immediately pulls the vibrator away, replacing it with his thumb as he rubs small circles against your clit, watching the way you squirm underneath him.
His touch is slow, light, gentle compared to the vibrations that were held against you, meant to slowly bring you down from that high. You squeeze your eyes shut, your entire body trembling as you try to catch your breath. It's nearly impossible with the way Sylus is still rubbing your clit, so you weakly swat at his hand, trying to squirm away.
"S'too much..." You whimper. Sylus hums in response, but for once, he actually listens. His thumb stills against your clit, momentarily dipping down to your slick entrance before he forces himself to tear his hand away, finally turning off the toy you'd been so convinced was broken. His hands then move to your thighs, watching you clench around nothing. He really should go, should let you sleep off the wine, but it would be a shame to leave you so wet.
"You... S'your turn..." You mumble, already trying to move to sit up against the pillows.
"Don't worry about me, sweetie. You're exhausted."
But you aren't letting him slip away so easily. Not when he gave you what was probably the best orgasm of your life.
"No. Your pants... Take them... Mm, gimme." You hum.
"You're drunk. No."
"Want it. Gimme." You argue.
He finally gives in with a heavy sigh. This wouldn't be the first time you two have had sex while drunk, and judging by how eager you are for him to take his pants off, he's guessing it won't be the last time either.
"You're lucky you're cute." He says as his hands move to his waistband, unzipping his pants before tugging the leather down just enough to free his cock. You squirm just in front of him, eager and wanting despite the orgasm he'd already granted you. Any other time, he would have teased you relentlessly.
Now, he simply slides the tip through your silky folds, brushing against your sensitive clit just to hear you whimper before he pushes into your tight heat. A low groan leaves him at the feeling of your velvety walls gripping him so deliciously, his hands finding the back of your thighs to keep you spread and open for him.
He isn't rough like he usually is. He wouldn't be able to forgive himself if he went too far while you were drunk. Instead, his pace is slow and deep, his hips grinding into you with every thrust, meant to savor the feeling of being buried in your cunt.
Your hands find his shoulders, weakly trying to pull him down while you moan for him. He doesn't make you wait. He doesn't even make you beg. He simply leans down, burying his face in the crook of your neck. His hands guide your legs around his waist. This is probably the most gentle he's ever been with you.
His teeth lightly scrape against your skin as he pushes impossibly deeper, your bedframe creaking softly, keeping perfect rhythm with his softer pace. It's not the obscene, filthy fucking that you always crave from him, but it has you whimpering his name as your arms wrap around him, your hands grasping onto his shirt as your hips clumsily move against his.
It doesn't take long for you to cum again, his slower, deeper pace coaxing a second orgasm. You fall apart around him, your cunt clamping down onto him like a vice as he fucks you so gently. You hear him let out a long groan, followed by a guttural curse as his rhythm falters, his breath hot and heavy against your skin.
Sylus rocks into you, slow and steady as his hands knead your thighs. He's quiet for a long moment, savoring the way you squeeze him so tightly, savoring how wet you are. It's only when you go limp underneath him that he finally lifts his head, a flicker of fond amusement crossing his features as he sees that you're finally fast asleep.
He stays a moment longer than necessary, his hand coming up to brush a stray strand of your hair out of your face. You look so peaceful, he doesn't have it in him to wake you to clean up.
Sylus adores kissing you. It's quickly become his favorite activity. Every time he sees you, you're pulled into his lap, his big hands squeezing your hips as his lips crash into yours. Sometimes he's rough, other times he's slow, like he's savoring the moment. You never know what to expect from him, but all you know is that he has your pussy dripping within like a minute.
Now isn't any different.
You're straddling his lap, knees digging into the velvet of his chair, while your fingers dive into the silver strands at the nape of his neck, desperately trying to tug him closer. You kiss him like you're trying to steal the breath from his lungs, like you want him to be just as hot and bothered as he makes you. You know he's hard. You can feel his cock just underneath you, pressing right against your clothed cunt like it belongs there. You suppose it does, but with Sylus holding you so firmly, you have no choice but to sit there and try to ignore the way it would feel so good to grind against.
Sylus kisses exactly like he speaks. Demanding and utterly in control. You debate pushing at his shoulders, whining how it's not fair that he still seems so composed, but then his tongue is licking into your mouth. You shiver against him, your hands tugging at his hair. It's ridiculous how easy he has you undone and eager for him to fuck you.
He lets you set the pace, lets you be the one to scramble and claw, but you can feel how intentional he is. Every brush of his lips against yours, every slide of his tongue has you melting into a puddle right there on his lap, and he's well aware of it.
It's just how he likes you, after all. Needy and wet just from a few of his kisses. He hasn't even touched you yet, but he knows if he were to slip his hand into your pantes, he'd find you soaking.
When he finally pulls back to allow you a ragged breath, a thin, glistening string of saliva momentarily connects your lips before it breaks. Your lips are puffy and slick, your cheeks flushed a pretty pink. He's ruinously handsome in the dim lighting, his hair a mess from your frantic hands and his mouth wet. You watch him, breathless and aching while he just watches you with that dark, focused way of his, looking perfectly pleased with how much of a mess he's made of you.
You lean back in, desperate to lose yourself in him, desperate to feel his mouth on yours, but his hand moves faster than your clouded mind can track. His long fingers fan out across your jaw, firm and unyielding, stopping you just inches from his mouth. You let out a quiet gasp of surprise, but then he's tilting your head from side to side, his eyes fixated on your lips like he's admiring a particularly interesting piece of art.
"Patience, Kitten." He rasps.
You don't listen. You want him too badly. You try and close the distance once more, earning a teasing huff from him.
"Sylus, please..." You whimper.
"I'm not done looking at you yet." He tells you. The denial has another broken, frustrated whine leaving your lips. You can't believe his audacity, though you consider yourself lucky at the same time. He could have pushed you off his lap, really made you work for him, but he didn't. He's kept you there, and now that he isn't holding your hips so tightly, you take the opening while you still have it.
You roll your hips right into him, the layers of clothing between you two muting the feeling of his cock against you. You don't care. It's good enough for now. You want to see his composure to crack, to feel him lose his breath the way you've lost yours.
But Sylus is not a man who easily gives up control. If anything, your bold display amuses him. Still, the hand on your hip tightens, his thumb hooking into the waistband of your jeans as he grinds back slow and steady. This steals the air right out of your lungs in a pathetic little moan as he guides your rhythm, his hand dictating exactly how and when you move against him.
"Look at you." He murmurs, leaning in to brush his damp lips against the corner of your mouth. "So eager to skip to the end, kitten. And here I thought you were enjoying yourself."
He's mocking you, and you're well aware of it. Usually you'd snap back with some sharp comment, maybe tell him to mind his damn business, but for right now, you don't care. You like it. You like knowing that he knows what he does to you.
But even so, you're done waiting.
"I would enjoy it more if you took my pants off."
This makes Sylus pause. His eyes flick down to the denim hugging your thighs before he meets your gaze once more, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips. He's well aware of what you want, but he can't help wanting to tease you a bit. He likes the anticipation.
"I know." He responds as he trails his mouth down your cheek, along your neck, nipping and sucking little bruises onto your skin as if he's perfectly content to do it all day.
Little shit.
"You are such a fucking tease." You whine even as you tilt your head for him. Even as you arch into him. Even as you continue to rub yourself against the bulge in his pants. You wonder if he's going to make you wait all day after all. Just the thought has your pussy clenching around nothing.
But Sylus relents. His hands easily maneuver you in his lap as he gives a sharp tug at your waistband, yanking the denim down your thighs. Within seconds, your jeans are tossed to the floor, his thumb pressed against your aching clit through the thin layer of your slick panties. He's slow as he drags his thumb against you, watching the way your hips twitch, listening to the quiet moans that escape you.
His free hand moves to his own pants, unzipping the leather until he can shove it down his legs and free his cock. He's so hard it physically hurts, precum smeared all along the tip. Your mouth waters at the sight, but he doesn't give you the chance to reach for him. He guides your hips, positioning you just above him before his fingers tug your damp panties to the side.
"This what you wanted, kitten?" He asks, smug as ever. Then he's guiding you down onto him, his fat cock instantly stretching your cunt exactly the way you love. Your velvety walls clench around him, coaxing him deeper, begging for more until the tip is kissing your cervix.
You shudder against him your hands tugging at his hair. You feel so deliciously full, all you can focus on is the way he guides your hips, the wet sound of skin on skin each time he thrusts up into you. It's obscene, the way he fucks you right in the middle of his lounge, but you don't care. You just want more.
One hand shifts away from your hips, dipping behind you only to smack against your ass. The sharp crack echoes in the room, punctuated only by the brutal, wet glide of skin on skin. Your hands grasp weakly at his shirt, incoherent moans and whimpers tumbling from your lips before you can bite them back.
Each thrust is deep, meant to drive the air from your lungs and leave you wondering where you end and he begins. A tell-tale sign of how his composure was barely hanging on. Crack. He smacks your ass again, squeezing the supple flesh before he shifts to the other side.
Crack. Crack-crack-crack.
You writhe on top of him, seeking more of him even while you feel the heat of the sting blooming across your skin. You wonder if he'll leave a nice handprint on your ass if you ask him. You wonder if he already has.
"You want me to cum in this pretty little pussy?" He asks you suddenly, his voice a low, ruined rasp as he squeezes your hips, his movements more deliberate as he guides you down on his cock over and over again. You mumble a response, try to tell him you obviously don't want him to pull out, but it's swallowed by your moans.
So instead, you clamp onto him, honeyed walls squeezing him like a vice. He responds by finding your swollen clit once more, rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves until you're falling apart around him. A choked cry leaves your lips, high-pitched and desperate as you squirm on his cock. His red eyes never leave your face, watching intently as you cum around him.
He follows a minute later with a ragged groan, his hands squeezing your hips hard enough to leave bruises later. His hips stutter underneath you as he pulls you flush against him, rocking into you like he's trying to ensure his cum remains deep inside your cunt.
For a moment, the only sound in the room is your frantic, broken breathing as you both try to come down from the high. You collapse onto him, burying your face in the crook of his neck as his arms wrap around you. He holds you so gently like he's scared you might disappear at any moment, a stark difference from the way he'd just been slamming into your cervix.
His thumbs rub small, soothing circles into your lower back as he tilts his head against the back of the velvet chair, a smug sort of pride flashing across his features as he feels you trembling against him.
"You're a mess." He says, his voice low in your ear, an amused huff following soon after. "But stay right here, sweetie. I've got you."
The first time Sylus is a bit too rough with you, it absolutely terrifies him.
He has you bent over the kitchen island, his large hands anchoring your hips with a possessive, unyielding grip as he drives his fat cock into you over and over again. His thrusts are frantic and desperate, driven by a rare lapse in his usual calculated composure. Caught in the surge of adrenaline and raw desire, he reacts on instinct. One hand leaves your hip only to smack against your ass with a sharp crack.
It's a heavy strike, meant to be a sting of pleasure, but delivered with far too much weight. The sound that falls from your lips isn't the breathless moan he expects. It's a sharp, jagged hitch of breath, followed by a small, wounded whimper.
Sylus instantly freezes, the predatory energy that he usually radiates vanishing in the blink of an eye to leave behind a sudden, jarring silence.
He hurt you.
"Wait." He rasps, his voice stripped of all its playful edge. His movements are slow as he pulls out, agonizingly careful and gentle as if he's scared to push you too far again. One hand remains on your hip, holding you steady while the other moves to your ass. His fingers trace the large welt against your skin, an uncharacteristic flicker of guilt in his red eyes.
"I went too far. I heard you." He says as he coaxes you to turn around, guiding your movements until your lower back is pressed against the kitchen island. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your lower lip in a silent apology.
His mouth follows seconds after, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that's less about desire and more about the need to undo the sting his own hand caused. Your hands find his hair, tangling in those silver strands even as you arch into him, still desperate and needy for him despite the stinging heat against your skin.
You whisper that it's okay, that you want him to keep going, that you want him to finish what he's started. But Sylus just shakes his head, his jaw clenched even as he trails his kisses down to your throat. He nips at your skin, far softer than usual, before his tongue finds your pulse point.
"Not like that." He murmurs, his voice a low vibration against your skin. "I was careless. I lost my lead."
He ignores the way you arch toward him, the way your body is practically begging for him to slide back home and continue stretching your cunt. He ignores the way you shift to settle on the edge of the counter top, but he doesn't miss the slight hiss in your breath as the cold marble hits your flushed skin.
He's decided his own punishment. He won't allow himself to lose himself in you again for now. He won't allow himself to bury his cock into your pretty little pussy until all you can both focus on is the way your velvety walls squeeze him just right. He doesn't trust the adrenaline still humming in his veins.
He doesn't trust that he won't push too far. As much as he loves being rough with you, his intent is never to truly hurt you. Instead, he sinks to his knees before you, his big hands easily pulling your thighs over his shoulders.
He doesn't give you the chance to argue with him.
The first lick is a long, flat stripe from entrance to clit that has a sharp, high-pitched moan falling from your lips. It's deliberate, meant to savor the taste of you. Sylus groans like he's tasting something exquisite, his hands pulling you further against his face.
Then his thumb settles against your clit, rubbing soft, slow circles while his tongue pushes inside you. Your hips jerk against his face, your hands tugging at his hair as he curls his tongue like he's trying to catalogue every little reaction. It's filthy, the way you're instantly dripping down his chin and coating his mouth, but he eats you as if you're his last meal.
The thumb on your clit stills for a second, quickly replaced with his mouth as he licks and sucks at you. Every hitch of your breath, every pathetic little moan that falls from your mouth only fuels his movements as he easily slips two long fingers into your dripping cunt.
He's relentless, his tongue flicking fast and hard, his fingers curling and pumping with ruthless, skilled precision. It's loud and sloppy, echoing in his kitchen and mixing with the sounds of your whimpers and whines. He's so hard it hurts, but he refuses to stroke himself as punishment for your pained cry earlier.
You're so close, so agonizingly close, when he suddenly stops, his red eyes flicking up towards your face. The sudden stillness is deafening. You're arched back, fingers tangled so tightly in his silver hair that your knuckles are white, your body trembling on the precipice of an orgasm that he just... snatched away.
It's ridiculous how your first instinct is to tilt your hips towards him, tug at his hair to try and bring his mouth back on your clit. He doesn't budge. He enjoys the way you're practically vibrating with need, but he's determined to set the terms.
"Tell me." He commands, his voice rough with the need he's suppressing even as he lazily pumps his fingers inside you. "Do you still feel that sting from earlier? Or is this all you can think about now?"
You can barely find your words, reduced to whimpering and whining as you rock against his hand, needing his fingers deeper. Needing more. He waits a few seconds to ensure that you're so lost in him that the pleasure has completely overriden the pain before he leans back in, his tongue finding your swollen clit with a renewed, relentless vigor.
"Good." He grunts against your skin, his gaze fixated on your face as your thighs squeeze his head. The build-up he forced upon you makes your orgasm hit twice as hard. Your back arches, your heels digging into his shoulders as your hips jerk and twitch against his face.
It’s not a quiet release. It’s a loud, unspooling cry that echoes off the kitchen cabinets, your fingers tightening in his hair until you’re practically pulling his head against you. Everything goes white for a second, the low light of the kitchen, the smell of his cologne, the hum of the refrigerator, all of it vanishes behind the pulsing, rhythmic squeezing of your honeyed walls around his fingers.
Sylus doesn't pull away immediately. He stays right there, holding you through the tremors as his fingers and tongue coax more out of you until you're slumped against the counter, limbs feeling like lead. Here, he finally withdraws with one last slow drag of his tongue against your clit.
The entirety of his mouth is slick because of you, but he doesn't seem to mind. If anything, he looks a bit smug. His movements are slow and deliberate as he stands up, his height looming over you once more. Seeing you completely undone by pleasure seems to have finally balanced the scales in his mind for the mistake he made earlier.
"There you are." He murmurs, his voice a dark, satisfied velvet. "Back where you belong."
He doesn't mention his own discomfort, doesn't mention how he'd give anything to bury himself inside your tight pussy, though the tension in his jaw and the way he avoids looking down at his own frame betrays how much he’s still holding back. Instead, he simply hooks his arms under your knees and back, lifting you off the counter as if you weigh nothing, intent on carrying you away from the cold marble and toward something much softer.
Sylus's voice was a low purr above you, trailing along your skin as if it had been his own touch. He had you pinned, one big hand easily holding both of yours down against the sheets while the other traced lazy circles just above where you so desperately wanted him.
He had been teasing you all day and now he had the audacity to make you beg for it.
You're trembling beneath him, squirming and tilting your hips to try and catch even a second of friction against your swollen clit. A dark, mocking chuckle vibrates against your throat as he presses a quick kiss just below your jaw.
"Poor little thing." He says, his voice rough and low in your ear as he releases your wrists only to cup the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. "Did you really think I'd let you off early tonight?"
Your hands immediately fly to his shoulders, gripping onto him as if you're scared he might disappear. He has before. He's left you aching and dripping for him purely to watch you squirm with the effort it took to not fuck your own fingers.
You're worried he might do it again.
But then he sinks one long finger into you, curling it just right to make your back arch off the sheets. Immediately, you clamp down on him, greedy and desperate to be filled by him.
"Sylus, please…" You whimper, your voice ruined and wrecked despite him barely touching you. Your hands easily slip into his hair, tugging on the silver strands. This earns you a brush of his thumb against your clit, finally allowing some of the friction you've been seeking.
A shattered moan leaves your lips as he guides his finger out of you before pushing it deep once more, curling against your tight walls just the way he knows you like. Suddenly, he's done teasing. He's done making you wait for it. He gives you a second finger, stretching your greedy little pussy for him as his thumb rubs soft, quick circles against your clit.
"Stop squirming, kitten." He tells you, his free hand clamping down onto your hip to hold you still as you tremble beneath him.
"I can't. I need it. Sylus, please." You beg him, your head thrashing against the pillows as you try and fight his grip. It's useless and you both know it, but the sight earns an amused hum from him.
With that, he withdraws his fingers, slick and glistening in the dim lighting of his bedroom. He doesn't waste a second as he unzips his pants, shoving the leather down to free his aching cock. He slides through your honeyed folds, the tip kissing your clit as he grinds himself on you.
"Is this what you wanted?" He asks, a smug grin on his face. You both know the feeling of his skin against yours is making that ache worse. You shake your head even as a moan leaves you, echoing softly within the room as your hips buck up to meet him. He continues, grinding his cock against you again, and again, and again, until finally, he relents.
Your breath hitches as he guides the tip into your dripping pussy, his movements agonizingly slow as he lets you feel every single inch he's burying deep inside you. He groans at the feeling of your walls eagerly clamping around him, coaxing him impossibly deeper until he's fully seated inside you.
He doesn't wait for you to fully adjust to the thick length of him. He knows you can take it.
He sets a brutal pace, his hips snapping against yours as his hands move to your thighs, keeping you spread for him. Your breath escapes your lungs in a loud cry. The sound of skin hitting skin echoes within his bedroom, an obscene, rhythmic noise that's accompanied only by your moans and the occasional groan from him.
His eyes never leave yours, watching every single reaction he pulls from you as if he could happily get drunk on you. Perhaps he already is. Each thrust is deep, possessive, and punishing, driving the air from your lungs in sharp gasps and whines. You watch it all, unable to look away from his blood red eyes, noting the way his jaw clenches every time you clench around him.
He fucks you like he's trying to merge your souls together.
You try to open your mouth and say something coherent, warn him that you're already close, but all that comes out is a broken moan. Your hands find his shoulders, nails digging into his skin in a silent claim of your own. He shifts, leaning his large body forward to hover over you further, the new position pushing your knees into your chest and allowing him to hit deeper.
With every thrust, his cock kisses your cervix. You know you're going to ache later, but right now, it's completely worth it.
When you come, it's sudden and intense, your nails digging deep into his skin before scratching down his arms, a high-pitched sob tearing from your throat. Sylus follows a second later with a guttural curse, burying himself deep inside you as your walls clamp almost painfully around him. His hips jerk against you as if he can't help himself, shallow, wicked rolls that push his cum deeper.
When he finally stills, you're both panting, bodies flushed and sweaty. He releases your thighs, shifting to pull your legs around his hips instead as he buries his face into your neck. You're both satisfied for now, but you know it won't be long until he's right back to teasing you relentlessly until you're dripping and aching for him.
You know it won't be long until you're begging to be underneath him again.
