Chapter 2 Kept Full and Used

Chapter 2

Title:Kept Full and Used

Setting:Private elevator → blacked-out SUV → Marcus’s penthouse

POV: Elena (first-person, dirtier, more degraded)

Pairing:Elena × Marcus

Heat: Extremely high — continuous use, forced orgasm, deep creampie, overstimulation, verbal degradation + ownership, messy, no recovery time

The private elevator doors had barely closed when Marcus shoved me face-first against the mirrored wall.

My cheek pressed to the cold glass. I could see everything — my smeared lipstick, the wet shine already coating the insides of my thighs, the way my tits hung heavy and marked from the table. His cock was out again, thick and still slick with my cunt and his own come. He didn’t ask. He just kicked my legs wider, yanked my skirt up over my hips, and slammed back into me in one brutal stroke.

The air punched out of my lungs.

“Still dripping,” he growled against my ear, hips already pistoning. “I told you to keep it in. You’re leaking all over the fucking elevator floor.”

I was. Every hard thrust forced more of his earlier load out around his cock in wet, filthy sounds. It ran down my legs in thick streaks. The elevator was glass on three sides — anyone in the opposite tower could have seen if they looked hard enough. I didn’t care. I pushed back onto him like a bitch in heat.

He fucked me the entire forty-floor descent. No mercy. One hand wrapped around my throat, the other reaching around to slap my clit every few strokes until I came again, shaking and gushing around him. My knees almost gave out. He held me up by the throat and the hip and kept pounding until the elevator dinged at the parking level.

He didn’t pull out when the doors opened.

He walked me out like that — cock buried to the root, one arm locked around my waist, my heels barely touching the ground — straight to the blacked-out SUV waiting in the private bay. He opened the rear door, shoved me face-down across the back seat, and climbed in after me. The door slammed. The driver partition was already up.

Marcus dragged my hips up, spread my cheeks with both hands, and spat directly onto my used hole.

“Open.”

I did. He drove back in to the hilt. The car started moving. Every bump in the road drove him deeper. I was a dripping, open mess — his come from the table still inside me, fresh spit and more precome joining it. He reached under and rubbed my swollen clit in tight, mean circles.

“You’re going to come again before we even leave the garage,” he ordered. “Do it. Make a bigger fucking mess.”

I did. My third orgasm of the night ripped through me so hard I sobbed into the leather seat. My cunt clenched and fluttered and milked him while more fluid poured out around his shaft and soaked the seat beneath us. Marcus cursed low and filthy and fucked me through it without slowing.

He didn’t let me come down.

The entire ride home he used me like a toy — deep, punishing strokes, occasional slaps to my ass and clit, fingers in my mouth so I could taste how wet and ruined I already was. When I tried to close my legs he forced them wider with his knees. When I whimpered that it was too much he only laughed and thrust harder.

“Too much is the point, Elena. You’re not a woman right now. You’re a hole that exists to take my cock and keep my come. Act like it.”

By the time the car stopped in his private garage I was shaking, drooling, and so oversensitive every movement made me jolt. He pulled out, leaving a thick trail of mixed come and cunt juice across the seat and down my thighs. He didn’t give me time to clean up or even stand properly. He dragged me out of the car, into the private elevator of his building, and up to the penthouse.

The second the door closed behind us he stripped me completely. Blouse, bra, skirt, everything hit the floor. He left me naked and dripping in the middle of his dark living room while he walked around me in a slow circle, still fully dressed, cock heavy and wet against his open pants.

“Look at you.” His voice was almost soft, which somehow made it worse. “Covered in my come. Cunt so used it’s gaping. Tits marked. Thighs shiny. And still fucking dripping.”

He pointed at the massive floor-to-ceiling window that looked over the entire city.

“Hands on the glass. Legs spread. Ass out.”

I obeyed. The glass was cold against my palms and nipples. Marcus stepped up behind me, rubbed the head of his cock through the mess between my legs, then pushed in again — slower this time, but so deep I rose onto my toes.

He fucked me against the window for a long time. Hard, deep, relentless. Every time I started to come he slowed just enough to drag it out, then sped up again until I was crying and begging. He made me watch our reflection in the dark glass — my fucked-out face, his thick cock disappearing into me over and over, the wet streaks running down the inside of my thighs.

When he finally decided to finish he buried himself to the root, grabbed a fistful of my hair, and growled against my ear.

“Take it. Every drop. You’re going to sleep with my come in your cunt tonight and I’m going to wake you up by adding more.”

He came hard — long, heavy pulses that I felt flooding me even deeper than before. I came with him, a broken, overstimulated orgasm that left me sagging against the glass. He stayed locked inside me until his cock stopped twitching, then slowly pulled out. A thick rope of come followed and slid down my leg.

Marcus stepped back and looked at the wreckage he’d made.

“On your knees.”

I dropped. He stood over me, cock still half-hard and shiny, and painted the last few spurts across my tongue and lips. I swallowed what I could. The rest stayed smeared on my face.

He crouched in front of me, tipped my chin up with two fingers, and studied the mess — come on my mouth, chin, tits, still leaking from between my spread thighs.

“Good girl,” he said quietly. “Now you’re exactly how I want you.”

He stood, stripped the rest of the way, and lifted me into his arms like I weighed nothing. He carried me to the bedroom, dropped me onto the middle of the huge bed, and immediately climbed between my legs again. His cock was already hardening.

I made a weak sound of protest. He just smiled, dark and filthy, and pushed back inside my sore, overflowing cunt in one smooth thrust.

“I told you,” he murmured against my mouth as he started moving again, slow and deep and claiming. “I’m not done collecting. And neither are you.”

He fucked me through two more orgasms before he finally let me rest — still buried inside me, still leaking into me, one heavy hand splayed over my lower belly like he was keeping everything exactly where he put it.

Outside the penthouse windows the city glittered.

Inside, I was nothing but a used, filled, owned hole that would be opened again the second I closed my eyes.