Their mouths met again— Teeth clashed, tongues wrestled. It was not slow. It was desperate. Hungry. He kissed her as if he had to breathe her, as if the taste of her tongue was the only thing keeping him alive.
Her hands held at his belt, pulling desperately as he pinned her to the stone wall, their bodies tight against each other.
She moaned into his mouth, biting hard into his lower lip enough to make him gasp for breath—then pulled the buckle loose with a sharp clink snap the belt fell.
He laughed into her mouth, husky and breathless. "Impatient?"
"You've been hard since the feast," she whispered on his neck, her hand moving downward. "I want to see it."
She dragged the pants down inch by inch—slow, teasing—kissing him along the way. Her lips brushed his jaw, his neck, his stomach, each kiss slow and wet. Her teeth scraped his skin as her hands wrapped around his pant waistband, pulling it down over his hips.
She froze in speaking, her eyes opening a little wider as his cock surged out—thick, red, already slick at the tip. She simply stared for a moment, lips open, breath snagging in her throat.
"My Gods…" she said, worshipful, like a priestess before an altar. "You've been hiding this all night?"
Her fingers curled around it slowly, gently, her hand soft on it.
He trembled in her grasp, and she smiled—hungry, wicked.
She leaned forward, brushing her lips across his cock without sucking it yet, just letting her breath tease his skin.
He moaned, low and hoarse, digging his fingers into her hair. "Stop teasing."
But she just laughed softly, licking her lips as her thumb traced over the swollen head. "Not a chance."
Slowly, her lips parted, and in one slow, deliberate motion, she placed a light, probing kiss on the very tip of it. The contact was light, barely there, yet enough to make him shiver.
His breath hitched, his whole body tightening at the heat of her mouth.
Then her lips opened wider, the soft pressure of her mouth rocking him with shockwaves. She didn't hurry—her movements were slow relishing each inch as she moved closer.
He growled low and harsh, his hands tightening into the edge of the stone as her mouth explored him. The tension in his body coiled tighter with every lick of her tongue, every wave of heat. His breath stalled.
"Fuck…" he whispered, voice low. " Just like that. Gods, your mouth—"
She looked up at him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. Slowly, seductively, she drew her tongue along his length once more, savoring the way his muscles tightened in reaction. Her lips curled gently against his skin as she took more of him in, inch by inch.
"You like that?" she murmured, her voice a breathy tease. "I want to hear you beg for more."
A low, guttural growl tore from his throat. His hands fisted in her hair, pulling her down hard as his hips surged forward. There was no longer any hesitation—it was a forced invasion now, making her take him deeper, using her mouth like he had to feel her choke on it.
"You're driving me mad," he groaned. "If you stop now, I swear—"
She groaned deep in her throat around his cock, and the throb of it coursed through him like a lightning bolt. His hips pumped harder in response.
"Don't stop," he snarled. "Don't fucking stop."
Her heart pounded in her chest, the rapid beat matching the rhythm of her movements. She was beyond the point of teasing now—this was no longer about play.
This was about claiming him as much as he was claiming her. The taste of his skin was intoxicating, and she needed more. As she pulled back to meet his gaze, she saw the tempest of desire in his eyes.
His breath was rough and his chest heaved as he looked down at her—lips wet, eyes wild. For a heartbeat, neither moved. The air between them pulsed with heat, like lightning waiting to strike.
And then, in a sudden movement, he grabbed her by the hips and lifted her of the ground banging her back against the stone wall. The air rushed from her lungs in a sharp gasp, but she wrapped her legs around him instinctively.
She was already soaked, her thighs trembling against his hips as he positioned his cock at her aching slit, thick and swollen, teasing her entrance with slow, fleeting strokes.
"Why are you—why are you teasing?" she gasped, trying to press against him, desperate for contact—but he pulled back, just enough to deny her.
"I want you to feel the pain when you also teased me," he said, voice dark and low, dragging the head of his cock through her aching slit, letting it nudge her clit just long enough to make her jolt. "You like it when I make you beg."
"I'm done begging," she snarled, grabbing at his ass, trying to force him in. "I'm ready."
He didn't thrust — not yet. Instead, he pushed the head against her opening and kept it there, the pressure tormenting, the threat of penetration making her crazy.
"You feel that?" he whispered. "How wet you are for me? How hot?"
She whimpered, her breath catching. He retreated once again, smearing his slickness over her flower — slow, sinful strokes. Her whole body arched, desperate.
"You're shaking," he said, kissing her throat. "You want it so bad, you're going to come before I even—"
"Fuck me," she spat, eyes blazing. "I want every fucking inch. Now."
And in one brutal, beautiful thrust, he buried his cock inside her.
"Gods…" she gasped, trembling. "You're… so fucking deep."
He began slowly — deliberate — sinking in deep with each thrust, pulling nearly all the way out before sliding back into her trembling heat. She whimpered, arching into him, desperate for more.
"More," she gasped, nails clawing into his arms.
He gave it to her. His hips snapped forward, driving into her hard enough to vibrate the stones behind her back. Skin slapped against skin, rough and raw, and she wrapped herself around him, riding the rhythm of his body.
She was panting, fingers digging into his shoulders as she clawed at him, desperate for something — anything — to hold her fast. The air was thick with the sounds of their bodies colliding, her moans carried just above the hard slaps of flesh.
"Damn, you're tight," he snarled, his grip on her hips squeezing tighter as he fucked her harder, deeper, his breathing in harsh gasps.
Every stroke felt like it was building towards something inevitable — the pressure mounting, her heart hammering in her throat, the heat intensifying low in her stomach.
"God, yes, just like that," she moaned, her voice shaky, barely clinging onto her sanity.
Her body tensed as she could feel it — the thick, hard spiral down deep inside of her, waiting to burst.
He groaned, pulling her into him, crushing her against him. "Don't hold back. Let go."
And then it happened.
The moment her body tensed, she could not hold it back. A surge of searing liquid erupted from deep within her, her entire body seizing up as she screamed, her pussy clamping around him in wild strokes.
But he didn't. He just kept fucking her — hard, deep, brutally — even while her orgasm ripped through her, drowning her senses.
She came hard, a tidal wave of release that soaked his cock, her thighs. Her body was wrecked, unable to move as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her.
Her fingers scraped down his back, leaving trails of fire, and he groaned in response, pumping into her as if he couldn't get enough.
She was shaking, her breath rough, her chest heaving against his as he finally slowed, pressing into her with one last deep thrust.
"You're fucking perfect," he whispered, his voice rough with exhaustion, his lips brushing over her forehead as he collapsed against her, the last tremors of their shared pleasure still rippling between them.