“Yes.”
He then grips his hands around my shoulders and buries his cock so deep in me I whimper in ultimate pleasure. He keeps a tight hold on me, never relenting as he pushes himself as deep as he can. It’s a searing pain in the tender flesh of my *, but so intoxicating.
“Tell me you feel that,” his voice strains.
I nod, unable to catch my breath enough to speak.
His cock begins to throb inside of me as he holds himself still, the pressure becoming too much for me to contain. He keeps pushing, deeper and deeper until I can’t take it anymore and I burst out in a breathless sob. It isn’t from pain though, it’s something else. An unyielding need to touch him, to grab him and pull him even deeper. It’s a reckless urge for him to permeate me wholly, to rip me open completely. All of him in all of me. My arms ache to be freed, but he has me restrained.
I begin to scream, tears springing from my eyes, needing more.
More.
More.
When I think the pressure can’t go any further, it does, intensifying, blinding my vision. My chest bears a thousand pounds of emotion, and I scream out, begging for more.
“That’s it, darling. Cry,” he encourages. “I want you crying for me.”
And I am. Every tear is his as I sob for more of him.
He wanted me weak, and here I am, happily weak and desperate. I’m thrashing and fighting the restraint of his belt, but it only makes my muscles burn even more. My whole body is a raging fire, incinerating all my doubts of his love for me.
“I won’t let you go!” he yells over my screams. “So stop fighting.”
And when I do finally stop tugging against his belt and quiet myself, he leans down and licks the tears that coat my cheeks.
“Are you done fighting me?”
I nod, unable to stop the maniacal emotions from flooding out of me.
“Say it.”
“I won’t fight you again.” My voice, hoarse and cracked.
He slowly releases the pressure, sliding his cock out of me, my muscles aching as I begin to lose him, but he returns with another forceful thrust, claiming, “I own you.”
His words provide solace as he fucks me in long, hard strokes. My vision clears, and his face comes back into focus. His body is covered in sweat, every ridge of every muscle flexes and strains as he takes back the control I had been attempting to steal from him. It belongs to him though, so I freely give it.
I watch him move above me, and he takes my hips when he props up on his knees and pulls my ass off the bed. The roped muscles of his shoulders and arms bulge in swollen heat as he takes my *. My whole body begins to climb, tingling, sparking, igniting.
“Ask me for it,” he snaps, reaching his hand behind my back to hold my hand, as he always does when I orgasm.
I immediately tense up, tightening my core, and he growls as I constrict around his shaft, fighting my release.
“Let me hear you beg.”
And I do, pleading for him to fuck me hard, to make me cum, and he does. I shatter, exploding around his cock in pulsing contractions of passion, love, and trust as he squeezes my hand that remains bound behind my back, reminding me that he’s here for me, that I’m not alone in the ache we both share for each other. And just as I reach my ultimate peak, live wires spark through my veins, taking my whole body captive. He pulls out and shoots his cum all over my stomach and tits. His hand continues to pump his cock as he empties himself all over me.
Tears paint my face in a piece of art that embodies a love so powerful it can only be ours. It’s ugly and beautiful and painful, but it’s ours. We are monsters and lovers, animals and killers, but nothing can extinguish what we have when we’re together.
He takes his hand and rubs his semen into my skin all over my stomach, breasts, and neck before unlatching the belt buckle, freeing my arms. I immediately sling them around his neck.
“I’m sorry,” I cry, tears falling from my cheeks and rolling down his back. “I’m so sorry.”
“Shhh, darling,” he consoles, whispering into my ear as he holds me tightly. “I have you. You’re safe.”
He sliced me wide open, and I cry for a long while until the wound slowly mends back together. He holds me the whole time, patient, whispering to me, calming me down.
I lie in his arms, covered in his feral scent, and when he pulls the sheets over our naked bodies, I take his face in my hands, telling him with absolute certainty, “I love you.” My heart weeps as I say the words and fresh tears slip out, but I say it again because I want no doubt. “I love you.”
He kisses me, and it’s tender. Lips brushing lips, sucking and licking. He isn’t taking; it’s purely giving.
“I don’t want you to ever go a day without knowing how much I adore you,” he tells me. “You’re life-consuming.”
With tangled legs, bleeding hearts, and tethered souls, we claw each other throughout the night—desperate for unsurpassable symbiosis.