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After the station
Data de publicação:
2026-02-09 23:28:38The twenty minutes stretched into an eternity of charged silence.
They didn’t speak as they left the station. Didn’t need to. He fell into step beside her, hands in his coat pockets, the bulge of her lace panties visible for a second before he shifted the fabric. Elena’s thighs rubbed together with every stride, a sticky reminder of what he’d already poured into her. Three blocks. Her apartment building loomed at the end of a quiet, tree-lined street. She could have said goodnight at the door. Could have taken the elevator alone. She didn’t. Instead, she glanced at him once quick, daring then punched in the code. He followed her into the lobby without a word. Into the elevator. Stood behind her as the doors closed, his reflection in the mirrored wall watching her like prey. The second the car started moving, he was on her. Hands rough under her coat, yanking her blouse free from her skirt. Mouth hot on her neck, sucking hard enough to bruise. She moaned, loud this time no one to hear and he answered by shoving a thigh between hers, forcing her to ride the hard muscle of his leg through her skirt. “Been dripping down your thighs the whole walk, haven’t you?” he growled against her skin. “My come leaking out of that greedy little pussy.” She whimpered, grinding helplessly against him. The elevator dinged. Twelfth floor. He pulled back just long enough for her to fumble the key into her door. The moment it clicked open, he pushed her inside, kicking it shut behind them. No lights. Just the city glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows. He spun her, slammed her back against the wall, and dropped to his knees. Skirt rucked up to her waist in one brutal motion. His mouth was on her before she could catch her breath—tongue licking a filthy stripe through her folds, tasting himself mixed with her slick. “Fuck, you’re soaked,” he rasped, voice muffled against her clit. “Taste like you’ve been fucked raw.” Two fingers plunged inside her without warning, curling hard. She cried out, hands fisting in his hair as he sucked her clit like he wanted to devour her whole. His free hand pinned her hip to the wall, holding her still while he tongue-fucked her in brutal, sloppy strokes. She came fast—shattering, thighs clamping around his head, flooding his mouth. He didn’t stop. Kept licking her through it, slow and obscene, until she was shaking and begging. “Please fuck too much” He stood, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes feral. “Turn around.” She did, bracing her palms on the wall, ass out, legs spread. He didn’t bother undressing fully. Just freed his cock again thick, glistening with precome and slammed into her from behind in one savage thrust. No mercy this time. He fucked her like he hated her. Like he wanted to ruin her. Hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave fingerprints. Hips snapping forward, balls slapping against her clit with every punishing stroke. The wet, obscene sound of her pussy taking him filled the room, loud and shameless. “Tell me,” he snarled, yanking her head back by the hair so her spine arched. “Tell me how much you love being fucked like a slut by a stranger.” “I—fuck—love it,” she sobbed, pushing back to meet every thrust. “Love your cock splitting me open—please—” He reached around, fingers finding her clit again, rubbing vicious circles. “Come on my dick again. Milk me dry.” She did—screaming this time, body convulsing as she squirted around him, soaking his slacks, dripping down both their thighs. He groaned like it broke him, thrusts turning erratic. Then he pulled out suddenly, spun her again, and shoved her to her knees. Mouth open. Tongue out. He stroked himself once, twice thick ropes of come painting her lips, her tongue, her cheeks. She swallowed what landed in her mouth greedily, eyes locked on his as he milked the last drops onto her chin. Silence, except for their ragged breathing. He tucked himself away, then surprising her used his thumb to gather the come on her face and feed it to her. She sucked it clean without hesitation. Finally, he spoke. “Bedroom’s that way?” He nodded toward the hallway. She nodded, throat raw. “Good.” He hauled her up by the arm, possessive. “Because I’m nowhere near done with you.”
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