mocha

“Look at you, trembling already,” Sevika growls, voice low and rough as her hands settle on your hips. “You’re soaked for me, aren’t you?”

You whimper, thighs trembling, body already betraying your anger and desire. “Y-yes— please,” you gasp, heat pooling between your legs. She smirks, pressing a firm hand against your lower back as her other slides between your thighs, fingers teasing, testing, just enough to make you arch into her touch. Every nerve in your body is on fire, and she hasn’t even started fucking you yet.

Before you can catch your breath, she lines herself up, pressing the tip of her strap-on against you. You gasp at the stretch, the pressure, and the anticipation. She pushes slowly, letting your body adjust to the fullness, inch by inch. Your nails dig into the sheets as she slides deeper, every movement measured, powerful, filling you completely. You cry out at the sensation, trembling, desperate for more.

Sevika begins to move, slow at first, letting you feel every curve and edge of her against you. Then she picks up the pace, thrusting deep and hard, hitting angles that make your hips jerk uncontrollably. Her hands grip your waist, thumbs pressing into your lower back, keeping you steady as she leans close, lips brushing your ear. You shiver at the low growl vibrating through her chest, clenching around her, and suddenly your world narrows to the relentless, powerful rhythm of her fucking you.

Her free hand drifts between your thighs, rubbing your clit in perfect time with her hips. You moan in loud, messy bursts, body squirming, hips rocking into every thrust. Your fingers clutch her forearms, nails leaving shallow scratches, and she hums against you, clearly enjoying how completely undone you are. She whispers your name once, low and possessive, sending an electric shock straight to your core.

Your body unravels under her, muscles clenching, back arching, chest heaving as your orgasm hits in long, shuddering waves. She doesn’t let up, thrusting deep and hard, rubbing your sensitive spots, biting your shoulder lightly, keeping you on the edge until your cries fill the room. Finally, she slows, dragging the tip out just enough for you to catch your breath, but not fully letting go. She wraps you in her arms, pressing kisses to your neck, stroking your hair and trembling shoulders. Even after destroying you, she makes you feel utterly cherished, safe, and entirely hers.