AURELIA
The darkness was thick around me, wrapping me in a velvet cloak of shadows that felt both suffocating and freeing all at once. Beneath him, I was exposed—raw, trembling, and aching in ways I hadn't dared to feel before. His hands roamed my body like they were the only things keeping me tethered to reality, burning paths over skin that was slick with sweat and desperate for more.
I tasted the remnants of his lips on my neck, where the bruises bloomed dark and beautiful, each one a wicked reminder of how deeply he claimed me. His voice, low and rough, was a constant thread in my mind. "You're mine," he said, and it echoed like a command I couldn't — wouldn't — resist.
He moved inside me, slow at first, deliberate. The thick, hard weight of him stretched and filled me in ways that sent shockwaves through my core. I gasped, a trembling sound that spilled from my lips without my control, raw and full of need. My fingers threaded through his hair, clutching him as if holding onto a lifeline, desperate to anchor myself in the storm of sensations.
Each thrust was a wave crashing over me — relentless, powerful, and dark. His hands gripped my hips like iron, holding me in place even as his pace quickened, rough and merciless. The slick heat between us was a burning, wet fire that pooled deep inside, tightening and fluttering with every movement.
My breath hitched, mingling with his low growls and sharp exhalations. There was no tenderness here — only a fierce, consuming hunger that matched the wildness in my own heart. I wanted to be undone by him, shattered and remade in this raw, brutal union.
My body arched instinctively, pressing harder against him, craving more, desperate for the crescendo I knew was coming. The room spun, the dark shadows flickering with the pulse of our racing hearts.
Then, it came — a shattering explosion of pleasure that tore through me in relentless waves. My nails dug into his back, skin slick with sweat as I screamed out, raw and broken. The heat wrapped around my spine, every fiber of my being trembling in the aftermath.
He didn't relent. He pushed deeper, harder, following me over the edge with a guttural growl that shook the walls. I felt him release inside me — thick, hot, claiming — sealing our bond with a dark, fierce possession that left no room for doubt.
We collapsed together, tangled and breathless, our skin slick and shining in the dim light. The silence after the storm was thick with unspoken promises and the heavy weight of something dangerous — something beautiful.
I was his. Completely. And in that surrender, I found a strange kind of freedom — wild, dark, and terrifying.
Because sometimes, the only way to truly live is to let yourself be lost.The darkness was thick around me, wrapping me in a velvet cloak of shadows that felt both suffocating and freeing all at once. Beneath him, I was exposed—raw, trembling, and aching in ways I hadn't dared to feel before. His hands roamed my body like they were the only things keeping me tethered to reality, burning paths over skin that was slick with sweat and desperate for more.
I tasted the remnants of his lips on my neck, where the bruises bloomed dark and beautiful, each one a wicked reminder of how deeply he claimed me. His voice, low and rough, was a constant thread in my mind. "You're mine," he said, and it echoed like a command I couldn't — wouldn't — resist.
He moved inside me, slow at first, deliberate. The thick, hard weight of him stretched and filled me in ways that sent shockwaves through my core. I gasped, a trembling sound that spilled from my lips without my control, raw and full of need. My fingers threaded through his hair, clutching him as if holding onto a lifeline, desperate to anchor myself in the storm of sensations.
Each thrust was a wave crashing over me — relentless, powerful, and dark. His hands gripped my hips like iron, holding me in place even as his pace quickened, rough and merciless. The slick heat between us was a burning, wet fire that pooled deep inside, tightening and fluttering with every movement.
My breath hitched, mingling with his low growls and sharp exhalations. There was no tenderness here — only a fierce, consuming hunger that matched the wildness in my own heart. I wanted to be undone by him, shattered and remade in this raw, brutal union.
My body arched instinctively, pressing harder against him, craving more, desperate for the crescendo I knew was coming. The room spun, the dark shadows flickering with the pulse of our racing hearts.
Then, it came — a shattering explosion of pleasure that tore through me in relentless waves. My nails dug into his back, skin slick with sweat as I screamed out, raw and broken. The heat wrapped around my spine, every fiber of my being trembling in the aftermath.
He didn't relent. He pushed deeper, harder, following me over the edge with a guttural growl that shook the walls. I felt him release inside me — thick, hot, claiming — sealing our bond with a dark, fierce possession that left no room for doubt.
We collapsed together, tangled and breathless, our skin slick and shining in the dim light. The silence after the storm was thick with unspoken promises and the heavy weight of something dangerous — something beautiful.
I was his. Completely. And in that surrender, I found a strange kind of freedom — wild, dark, and terrifying.
Because sometimes, the only way to truly live is to let yourself be lost.The darkness was thick around me, wrapping me in a velvet cloak of shadows that felt both suffocating and freeing all at once. Beneath him, I was exposed—raw, trembling, and aching in ways I hadn't dared to feel before. His hands roamed my body like they were the only things keeping me tethered to reality, burning paths over skin that was slick with sweat and desperate for more.
I tasted the remnants of his lips on my neck, where the bruises bloomed dark and beautiful, each one a wicked reminder of how deeply he claimed me. His voice, low and rough, was a constant thread in my mind. "You're mine," he said, and it echoed like a command I couldn't — wouldn't — resist.
He moved inside me, slow at first, deliberate. The thick, hard weight of him stretched and filled me in ways that sent shockwaves through my core. I gasped, a trembling sound that spilled from my lips without my control, raw and full of need. My fingers threaded through his hair, clutching him as if holding onto a lifeline, desperate to anchor myself in the storm of sensations.
Each thrust was a wave crashing over me — relentless, powerful, and dark. His hands gripped my hips like iron, holding me in place even as his pace quickened, rough and merciless. The slick heat between us was a burning, wet fire that pooled deep inside, tightening and fluttering with every movement.
My breath hitched, mingling with his low growls and sharp exhalations. There was no tenderness here — only a fierce, consuming hunger that matched the wildness in my own heart. I wanted to be undone by him, shattered and remade in this raw, brutal union.
My body arched instinctively, pressing harder against him, craving more, desperate for the crescendo I knew was coming. The room spun, the dark shadows flickering with the pulse of our racing hearts.
Then, it came — a shattering explosion of pleasure that tore through me in relentless waves. My nails dug into his back, skin slick with sweat as I screamed out, raw and broken. The heat wrapped around my spine, every fiber of my being trembling in the aftermath.
He didn't relent. He pushed deeper, harder, following me over the edge with a guttural growl that shook the walls. I felt him release inside me — thick, hot, claiming — sealing our bond with a dark, fierce possession that left no room for doubt.
We collapsed together, tangled and breathless, our skin slick and shining in the dim light. The silence after the storm was thick with unspoken promises and the heavy weight of something dangerous — something beautiful.
I was his. Completely. And in that surrender, I found a strange kind of freedom — wild, dark, and terrifying.
Because sometimes, the only way to truly live is to let yourself be lost.The darkness was thick around me, wrapping me in a velvet cloak of shadows that felt both suffocating and freeing all at once. Beneath him, I was exposed—raw, trembling, and aching in ways I hadn't dared to feel before. His hands roamed my body like they were the only things keeping me tethered to reality, burning paths over skin that was slick with sweat and desperate for more.
I tasted the remnants of his lips on my neck, where the bruises bloomed dark and beautiful, each one a wicked reminder of how deeply he claimed me. His voice, low and rough, was a constant thread in my mind. "You're mine," he said, and it echoed like a command I couldn't — wouldn't — resist.
He moved inside me, slow at first, deliberate. The thick, hard weight of him stretched and filled me in ways that sent shockwaves through my core. I gasped, a trembling sound that spilled from my lips without my control, raw and full of need. My fingers threaded through his hair, clutching him as if holding onto a lifeline, desperate to anchor myself in the storm of sensations.
Each thrust was a wave crashing over me — relentless, powerful, and dark. His hands gripped my hips like iron, holding me in place even as his pace quickened, rough and merciless. The slick heat between us was a burning, wet fire that pooled deep inside, tightening and fluttering with every movement.
My breath hitched, mingling with his low growls and sharp exhalations. There was no tenderness here — only a fierce, consuming hunger that matched the wildness in my own heart. I wanted to be undone by him, shattered and remade in this raw, brutal union.
My body arched instinctively, pressing harder against him, craving more, desperate for the crescendo I knew was coming. The room spun, the dark shadows flickering with the pulse of our racing hearts.
Then, it came — a shattering explosion of pleasure that tore through me in relentless waves. My nails dug into his back, skin slick with sweat as I screamed out, raw and broken. The heat wrapped around my spine, every fiber of my being trembling in the aftermath.
He didn't relent. He pushed deeper, harder, following me over the edge with a guttural growl that shook the walls. I felt him release inside me — thick, hot, claiming — sealing our bond with a dark, fierce possession that left no room for doubt.
We collapsed together, tangled and breathless, our skin slick and shining in the dim light. The silence after the storm was thick with unspoken promises and the heavy weight of something dangerous — something beautiful.
I was his. Completely. And in that surrender, I found a strange kind of freedom — wild, dark, and terrifying.
Because sometimes, the only way to truly live is to let yourself be lost.The darkness was thick around me, wrapping me in a velvet cloak of shadows that felt both suffocating and freeing all at once. Beneath him, I was exposed—raw, trembling, and aching in ways I hadn't dared to feel before. His hands roamed my body like they were the only things keeping me tethered to reality, burning paths over skin that was slick with sweat and desperate for more.
I tasted the remnants of his lips on my neck, where the bruises bloomed dark and beautiful, each one a wicked reminder of how deeply he claimed me. His voice, low and rough, was a constant thread in my mind. "You're mine," he said, and it echoed like a command I couldn't — wouldn't — resist.
He moved inside me, slow at first, deliberate. The thick, hard weight of him stretched and filled me in ways that sent shockwaves through my core. I gasped, a trembling sound that spilled from my lips without my control, raw and full of need. My fingers threaded through his hair, clutching him as if holding onto a lifeline, desperate to anchor myself in the storm of sensations.
Each thrust was a wave crashing over me — relentless, powerful, and dark. His hands gripped my hips like iron, holding me in place even as his pace quickened, rough and merciless. The slick heat between us was a burning, wet fire that pooled deep inside, tightening and fluttering with every movement.
My breath hitched, mingling with his low growls and sharp exhalations. There was no tenderness here — only a fierce, consuming hunger that matched the wildness in my own heart. I wanted to be undone by him, shattered and remade in this raw, brutal union.
My body arched instinctively, pressing harder against him, craving more, desperate for the crescendo I knew was coming. The room spun, the dark shadows flickering with the pulse of our racing hearts.
Then, it came — a shattering explosion of pleasure that tore through me in relentless waves. My nails dug into his back, skin slick with sweat as I screamed out, raw and broken. The heat wrapped around my spine, every fiber of my being trembling in the aftermath.
He didn't relent. He pushed deeper, harder, following me over the edge with a guttural growl that shook the walls. I felt him release inside me — thick, hot, claiming — sealing our bond with a dark, fierce possession that left no room for doubt.
We collapsed together, tangled and breathless, our skin slick and shining in the dim light. The silence after the storm was thick with unspoken promises and the heavy weight of something dangerous — something beautiful.
I was his. Completely. And in that surrender, I found a strange kind of freedom — wild, dark, and terrifying.
Because sometimes, the only way to truly live is to let yourself be lost.