Villain Ch 1863. Naked Window
They rotated. Rode him. Sat on his face. Took his cock between their breasts, their thighs, their lips. They pampered him, worshiped him, drowned him in affection, each one giving everything they had.
But still—it was Allen who set the tempo.
His thrusts.
His groans.
His rhythm, relentless.
He was the one in control, a beast finally unchained, every workout, every ounce of stamina built in the gym now unleashed in a storm of hips slamming, bodies grinding, lips biting, tongues moaning.
The villa walls echoed with their cries. The windows fogged. The air turned thick with sex and sweat and laughter and desperate, breathless love.
And through it all—
Allen smiled.
Groaned their names.
Bit, kissed, sucked, marked them as his.
And when they collapsed one by one—bruised, breathless, messy, soaked—
Allen was still moving.
Still thrusting.
Still fucking them like he had a lifetime of restraint to burn.
Because he did.
