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Then his fingers slide between my thighs.

I cry out—high, broken—as two thick fingers find my slick heat, plunging in beside his cock, stretching me wider, filling me more than I thought possible. The squelch of wet friction fills the space between each brutal thrust, obscene and perfect.

“Fuck,” he growls, watching the way I fall apart, eyes locked on mine in the mirror. “You hear that? That’s your pussy begging for it.”

I can’t form words. My tongue lolls out as my knees start to buckle, body jolting with every thrust, every curl of his fingers as they stroke and press and twist in perfect rhythm.

I come with a scream—violent, uncontrollable—my body locking up as he slams into me harder, his fingers fucking me through it, dragging out every pulse of pleasure until I’m collapsing into the mirror, barely upright, a mess of sweat and noise and trembling limbs.

But he’s not done.

He pulls out, gripping my hips to spin me around, and in the next second I’m in his arms, carried to the bed and thrown down like he can’t stand the distance anymore. He climbs over me, knees bracketing my hips, and pins my wrists above my head with one hand as the other guides his cock back inside me.

He sinks in slow and the stretch punches the breath from my lungs.

“Mine,” he growls, pressing deeper, grinding into me until I gasp. “All fucking mine.”

He leans down, mouth capturing one breast, teeth dragging across my nipple before he bites—not gentle, not sweet, just enough to make me arch and cry out beneath him.

I’m gasping, writhing, completely open to him, and he’s relentless. Every thrust claims me, every inch of skin pressed against mine drives me further under.

My body arches against him, straining beneath the weight of his grip, every nerve ending alight. I’m gasping, moaning against his mouth as he swallows every sound I make, kissing me like he’s furious with how much he needs me. His tongue tangles with mine, fierce and deep, and when he pulls back, I'm dizzy from the lack of air.

His mouth moves, claiming the other breast. He sucks hard, then rolls my nipple between his teeth until my back bows and I cry out, shameless and hoarse. My legs lock around his hips, trying to keep him buried inside me, but he’s too far gone to slow down.

He’s fucking me like he means reshape every part of me to fit around him. His hips piston hard and deep. Every thrust hits where I’m already throbbing, his body slamming into mine with the kind of wild, filthy purpose that leaves me clawing at the sheets, gasping his name again and again.

“Ethan,” I beg, breath breaking, fingers tangling in the sheets above my head. “I can’t… I can’t take it?—”

“Yes, you can,” he growls, low and savage, grinding against me until I cry out. “You’re going to take it, baby. Every inch. Every time.”

His hand slides between us, fingers slipping where we’re joined, rubbing tight, fast circles that make my vision blur. I buck beneath him, hips rolling helplessly as pleasure builds again, spiraling hot and hard through me, too much and not enough all at once.

“Please.” I’m not even sure what I’m asking for anymore. Release. Ruin. Everything.

But he knows.

“Good girl,” he pants, his pace punishing now, sweat slicking our bodies as the sound of skin against skin fills the room. “Come for me. Let me feel you.”

I shatter.

It rips through me like a storm, wild and raw, my body clamping around him as the climax takes me over. I sob his name, my legs trembling, muscles clenching as I pulse around him, dragged under by the intensity of it. He doesn’t stop. He drives through it, making me feel every thrust, every stroke, as the pleasure crests again, sharp and unrelenting.

And then he pulls out all at once—leaving me empty and aching.

I whimper, dazed and wrecked, before he thrusts back inside, harder than before. I cry out, overstimulated and wide open, my body jolting under the impact. His grip tightens around my wrists, holding me still as he slams into me again, his rhythm chaotic, desperate, broken by his own release building fast.

“Fuck, Ivy…” His voice is ragged, strained, lost.

I feel it. The way he thickens inside me. The way his breath catches. The way his hips snap once, twice, then slam deep and stay there as he groans through gritted teeth, emptying himself inside me with one last thrust.

Warmth floods me.

He exhales, collapsing over me with a hand braced by my head, his chest heaving against mine. I feel his heart pounding. Feel the pulse of him still inside me, twitching with aftershocks.

There’s only the sound of our breaths and the wild beat of what we just did echoing through my body like a second heartbeat. I blink up at him, dazed, wrecked, completely undone.

He lets go of my wrists and threads his fingers through mine instead, pressing our hands into the pillow as his lips brush over my cheek, my jaw, the corner of my mouth.