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Not when her pussy’s still fluttering from the last orgasm like that. Not when my cock’s still half-hard, sticky with release, aching to get back inside her.

It doesn’t take long.

Hell, it never does.

She pants a breathy release, and I’m already grabbing my cock, thickening in my fist, as I tease her entrance begging for more.

Her scent, her sounds, the wrecked way her hips twitch like she misses me— it’s all I need.

My recovery time—

Laughable…especially when it comes to this one.

And let’s be real—if I wasn’t packing nine solid inches, she wouldn’t be moaning like this before I’m fully hard again.

But she is.

Lips parted. Eyes glassy. Fingers clutching the sheets like she doesn’t know whether to beg for mercy or more.

I grab her hips, flip her fast.

Ass up, thighs spread, the prettiest little peach in the goddamn world.

I smack her once, hard.

She gasps and pushes back.

“You want it again?”

Her voice shakes, wrecked and wanting. “Yes… please.”

I don’t wait.

I slide back in—stretching her, still making her gasp like it’s the first time.

She’s so wet, so swollen from the last round, and still, she takes it all like a good girl.

“You feel that?”

I growl into her neck, pinning her from behind.

“You feel how quick I got hard for you?”

She moans, helpless. “Yes…I feel it.”

“You’ll like this cock, baby? Hard, deep, fucking yours.”

I grip her ass, drag her flush against me, and thrust so deep I swear I see stars.

“You feel how you squeeze me?”

I growl, panting into her neck.

“That needy little pussy’s fucking made for me.”

She whimpers, clutching at the sheets like she’s drowning in it.

“Don’t stop. Please—God—don’t stop.”

“I’m not fucking stopping till you can’t speak. Till you forget your name and the only word left is mine.”

I drive into her like it’s a promise.

Like I’ll never be soft again as long as she’s in my bed— under me, wrapped around me, moaning like this.

Every thrust is deeper. Rougher.

Her body sings for it— and I’m obsessed with every sound she makes.

When her moans break again, her pussy pulsing tight, ruined— dragging me in deeper like she’s trying to keep me there,

I fucking lose it.

Grunting, teeth in the back of her neck, hips jerking as I spill for the second time— this time harder. Hotter. More primal.

We collapse together and I maneuver on top— sweat-slicked skin sliding as we catch our breath.

I press my forehead to hers, lips brushing, both of us breathing like we’ve survived a war.

For a while, we just lie there.

No names, no questions.

Just the high of what we wrecked together.

Finally, she whispers,

“You’re not from around here, are you?”

I chuckle against her mouth, still catching my breath.

“Is it that obvious?”

I let my thumb trace her jaw, then lower, right where I’ve kissed her raw.

“Where I’m from, we don’t fuck nice. We claim.”

She exhales low and sweet against my chest, like she’s still humming with the aftershocks.

The room’s cooled, but I’m still on fire— every nerve lit up, skin oversensitive and aching in the best fucking way.

“You feel that?” I murmur, still inside her, barely able to move.

“That’s my body tapping out.”

She laughs—winded, wrecked.

“You sound surprised.”

“I am.”

I kiss her temple, slow and deep.

“Didn’t think anyone could knock me flat like that.”

I look down at her—flushed, glowing, fucking lethal.

“Gotta be honest, sweetheart. If I didn’t know better, I’d say you came here to destroy me.”

She giggles.

And it does something fucked to me.

My lips find hers again, slow and hungry.

“You laughing at me, sweetheart?”

I rasp, grinning into the kiss.

She shakes her head, all innocent eyes and glowing skin, but that smile is pure sin.

And fuck, it makes me want to rip the mystery right off her face.

Who the hell is she?

This nameless girl who fucked me like she’s known me in every life before this.

I don’t do the whole connection thing.

Relationships? Feelings? No fucking thank you.

But something about being buried inside her, hearing those moans—

I’d be a goddamn liar if I said it didn’t flip a switch in me.

I kiss her again—deep, possessive, like maybe I’ll taste her name on her tongue.

Then I finally pull out, cock dragging slow, and she gasps like it hurts.

Yeah, I feel that shit in my spine.

I don’t say a word.

What am I supposed to do— thank her for the best fuck of my life? Compliment her pussy like we’re swapping Yelp reviews?

None of it fits.

So I keep my mouth shut.

I stand, glance back at her one last time, and make my way to the bathroom.

Condom’s still clinging like a regret— I strip it off, drop it in the trash, and lean against the sink.

Piss. Wash. Breathe.

Try to calm the wild-ass idea in my head that maybe I want more.

Not forever. Not feelings.

Just…another night. Another taste.

I open the door, towel slung low on my hips, cock already halfway hard again just thinking about her.

“Hey, so —”

My words die on my tongue.

The bed’s empty. Sheets twisted. Her scent still in the air, her heat lingering on the mattress.

But she’s gone.

No name. No note. Not even a fake number scribbled in lipstick.

Just the ghost of her kiss and a promise I never got to make.