😈 The second Scene 😈

[Th****]

I step back into the bedroom with two glasses of water, the door clicking softly shut behind me. The room is dim—only the low amber glow from the bedside lamp—and she’s exactly where I left her: sprawled on her back in the center of the wrecked bed, blindfold still in place, wrists loosely bound with the trailing ends of black silk. Her chest rises and falls in shallow, uneven breaths. Those strappy heels are still on, one ankle crossed over the other like she’s trying to hold herself together. Between her thighs the sheets are dark and sodden, a glistening map of everything we’ve already done.

She turns her head toward the sound of my footsteps. Lips part. A small, needy sound escapes before she can catch it.

I set the glasses on the nightstand and crawl onto the mattress, slow, deliberate. The bed dips under my weight. She feels it—her whole body tenses in anticipation, thighs parting another inch like an invitation she can’t help but give.

“You didn’t think we were finished, did you, baby girl?”

My voice is rougher now, edged with the hunger I’ve been holding back. She shakes her head quickly, blindfold shifting against her cheeks. A fresh flush creeps down her throat.

“No, Sir,” she whispers. The title slips out soft and reverent, the way it always does when she’s this deep in subspace. “I want… I want the second time. Please.”

I settle between her legs, knees nudging her wider. She’s still so slick, so swollen—lips puffy and dark, entrance glistening with the mess I left inside her. I drag one fingertip through it, slow, watching the way her hips twitch upward at the lightest contact.

“Look at you,” I murmur. “Still dripping me. Still so fucking ready.”

She whimpers. Tries to close her thighs on instinct, but I press them open again—firm, unyielding.

“Keep them spread.” I lean down, mouth hovering just above her clit. Close enough that she can feel my breath, not close enough to give her what she needs. “You’re going to take me again. Exactly like this. Tied. Blind. Heels digging into my back while I fill you up until you can’t think straight.”

Her breath hitches. Fingers flex against the silk still looped around her wrists.

I don’t tease long. I’ve already waited too fucking long to be inside her again.

I notch myself at her entrance—still slick with us—and push in with one smooth, deep stroke. She’s tighter now, swollen from the first round, and the way she stretches around me pulls a low groan out of my chest. Her walls flutter immediately, greedy, trying to pull me deeper. I bottom out and hold there, letting her feel every thick inch, letting her feel how much more she can take even when she thinks she’s at her limit.

Her heels hook behind my thighs. Sharp little points pressing into muscle. Good. I want the marks.

I start moving—slow at first, long drags that make her gasp every time I pull almost all the way out and sink back in. Each thrust pushes more of our combined mess out around my cock, slick sounds filling the quiet room. I brace one hand beside her head, the other sliding up to wrap around her throat again—just enough pressure to make her pulse jump under my palm.

“You feel that?” I rasp against her ear. “How full you are? How much you’re leaking for me?”

She nods frantically. Tears are seeping into the blindfold now, darkening the silk. Not from ***. From the overwhelming everything.

I pick up s***d. Harder. Deeper. The headboard thumps against the wall in steady rhythm. Her cries turn sharp, desperate—half pleas, half thanks. I feel her start to tighten around me again, that telltale flutter that means she’s close already.

“Not yet,” I growl. “You come when I do. When I’m spilling inside you again. Understand?”

“Y-yes—please—Sir—”

I angle my hips, hitting that spot that makes her whole body jerk. Once. Twice. Then I keep it there, relentless, fucking into her with short, brutal strokes that have her heels scraping down my back, leaving red lines I’ll feel tomorrow.

Her mouth falls open on a broken sob. “I can’t—I’m gonna—”

“Come,” I order, voice like gravel. “Come on my cock while I fill you, baby girl. Take every drop.”

She shatters.

Harder than the first time. Whole body locking, back bowing off the mattress, cunt clamping down so tight it’s almost ***ful. I feel her pulse around me in wild, rhythmic waves—milking, pulling—and I let go. Hot, thick spurts deep inside her, so much it overflows immediately, running down between her cheeks, soaking the sheets even more. I keep thrusting through it, slow and deep, riding out both our orgasms until she’s trembling, whimpering, completely spent.

When I finally still, I stay buried. Press my forehead to hers. ***l the blindfold away slowly.

Her eyes blink open—glassy, dazed, shining. She looks at me like I’m the only thing in the world that exists.

I kiss her—soft this time. Slow. Tasting the salt of her tears, the sweetness of her mouth.

“My perfect girl,” I murmur against her lips. “So fucking good for me.”

I reach up and finish untying the silk from her wrists. Rub the marks gently. Pull her heels off one at a time, massaging the arches until she sighs.

Then I gather her close—sticky, sweaty, wrecked—and hold her against my chest while our breathing evens out.

She’s already drifting, boneless in my arms.

But I know her.

In an hour, maybe two, she’ll stir. She’ll press that soft little body against me again. Whisper “more” like she’s shy about it.

And I’ll give it to her.

Because good girls who beg so sweetly always get what they need.

And she’s mine. 😈

[Ri****]

Hot and sweet thank you