He digs into her hip with a hand and his other cups one of her heavy breasts.
He watches through the mirror as she does as he commands, feeling the evidence as she tightens around him.
He is still barely inside of her, seated, but not moving. He wants to give her time to acclimate, for her body to accept that he is going to do his best to ruin her.
“Are you ready?” he growls into her ear.
“No.” The word is broken by him withdrawing and slamming back into her.
The garbled scream doesn't sound like the wordstop.
And so he continues.
He thrusts into her, up and angled into the spot his fingers found before. He begins with small short bursts and then swaps to long hard snaps. He doesn't exactly know what he's doing, but he uses her body as a guide. The way she strangles his dick, her wanton moans, her unfocused eyes.
A delayed detonation.
His own pleasure finds him hard and fast. His desire hitting past the point of no return before he can catch it.
He stares into her eyes poised to plunge again. “Sunday, I love you.”
“I love you t–”
And then he is pounding into her, handling her as he wants, stamping into her. Exceeding their last encounter, dissolving any residual pain, he wants this to be more memorable.
She is attempting to mute her sounds, but eventually he has to release her hip and cover her mouth instead.
But still he doesn't let up. There isn't time. And just as he is afraid he won't get her there, her body tenses and spasms around his. Her eyeswatering as she cries out in pure bliss. Her hot breath fanning his palm as he finds his own release.
For a few minutes, they stay just like that, with him buried inside of her as they pant into the air. Both sticky and naked.
He feathers kisses on her neck as he gently pulls out of her.
“One more quick shower to clean up?” He offers her his hand.
She takes it, squeezing him reassuringly, and then she dives at him.
Darius catches her. She peppers kisses across his skin. Offering him comfort and love and warmth.
More than he deserves. More than he is accustomed to.
She wraps her arms around him and rests her head on his chest.
“Yes, please.” She sighs softly.
Darius can physically feel as she heals a deep dark part of himself.
He doesn't truly forgive himself, not yet.
But he knows one day he will.
39
October 9th
The brothers are–thankfully–gone when we exit the bathroom. I didn't expect that from Darius, but it felt…fuck.
I don't even have the words. I never envisioned the sweetest of the brothers to handle me so roughly. It was hot, addicting, and I can't wait for him to lose his cool like that again.
