He rewarded her with a slow grind of his hips, letting her feel how hard he was. She moaned softly, head falling back against the mirror.

His fingers hooked into her panties, tugging them aside. She was wet—achingly so. He circled her clit slowly at first, teasing, watching her face contort in pleasure.

"Scared?" he asked, voice rough.

"A little," she admitted, then added, "But I want this. I want you."

He pushed one finger inside her—slow, careful despite his warning. She was tight, untouched in ways that made his blood roar. She arched, a soft cry escaping.

"Shh," he murmured, kissing her to swallow the sound. "Just feel."

He added a second finger, curling them, thrusting steadily while his thumb worked her clit. Her hips rocked against his hand, chasing the pleasure he'd denied them both for so long.

When she came, it was with his name on her lips—quiet, broken, beautiful. Her walls clenched around his fingers, body trembling in his arms.

Part 2 - 🔞

He pushed inside her in one slow, deep thrust.

She gasped—pain and pleasure twisting together. He stilled, letting her adjust, forehead pressed to hers.

“Breathe,” he murmured. “I’ve got you.”

She wrapped her legs around him.

Moved.

He lost it.

The pace turned rough—deep, relentless, claiming. His hand wrapped around her throat—not squeezing, just holding. Possessive. Her nails raked down his back. She moaned his name like a prayer.

When she came again, it was explosive—back arching, vision whitening. He followed seconds later, burying himself deep, groaning her name like it hurt.