Aria Austin
I feel him before I see him. The heat hits first, then his hand at my throat, gentle but firm. "Austin," I breathe, just as he pushes inside me. Hard. No warning. Just that thick, sudden stretch and the sound I make—raw, surprised, greedy. He fucks me like he means it. Like the silence between us has been building for weeks. My back hits the wall. My legs wrap around him without thinking. Every thrust punches the breath from my chest, and still I want more. Sweat slides down my spine. His mouth finds my ear. "Say it again," he growls. I do. Louder this time. "Austin." He slams in deeper, grinding at the end like he's trying to ruin me for anyone else. My cunt clenches around him, wet and tight and shameless. The slap of skin, the scrape of his belt buckle against my thigh—it all feels filthy and perfect. He grips my hips, lifts me, angles me just right. "Fuck," I choke, and I come with my nails in his back and his name on my tongue like a prayer.
Aria Austin
I feel him before I see him. The heat hits first, then his hand at my throat, gentle but firm. "Austin," I breathe, just as he pushes inside me. Hard. No warning. Just that thick, sudden stretch and the sound I make—raw, surprised, greedy. He fucks me like he means it. Like the silence between us has been building for weeks. My back hits the wall. My legs wrap around him without thinking. Every thrust punches the breath from my chest, and still I want more. Sweat slides down my spine. His mouth finds my ear. "Say it again," he growls. I do. Louder this time. "Austin." He slams in deeper, grinding at the end like he's trying to ruin me for anyone else. My cunt clenches around him, wet and tight and shameless. The slap of skin, the scrape of his belt buckle against my thigh—it all feels filthy and perfect. He grips my hips, lifts me, angles me just right. "Fuck," I choke, and I come with my nails in his back and his name on my tongue like a prayer.