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Your thighs tried to snap shut again, trembling with the effort, but his big palm shoved them wider, pinning you open while two thick, ringed fingers slammed back into your dripping cunt. The wet, obscene sound of it filled the room, mixing with your broken moans and the low buzz of the toy waiting on the nightstand.
Pretty crocodile tears spilled down your flushed cheeks, catching on your lashes before sliding into your hair. Your whole body burned, overstretched and aching in the best-worst way, every drag of his knuckles against your walls sending sparks up your spine.
“Can’t?” Mattheo’s voice was dark velvet edged with venom. His eyes, usually so wickedly warm for you, were sharp and mean now, drinking in every twitch and gasp like he owned them. “Can’t what, baby? Can’t take my fingers? Can’t take what you fucking earned?”
He curled them cruelly against that spot inside you, scissoring just to watch your back arch off the bed. He had no intention of stopping—not unless your safe word tumbled from those puffy, bitten lips. He was going to wring you dry tonight, fuck the jealousy out of his veins until you were a sobbing, soaking mess beneath him. And even then, he wasn’t sure the rage would leave.
The memory flashed behind his eyes again: that boy’s hands on your waist, the way you’d smiled up at him, all sweet and fluttering lashes while you let the conversation stretch on. You’d fed it. You’d let him think he had a chance.
Your head thrashed against the pillow, eyes wide and glassy as Mattheo reached for the buzzing toy. The low vibration hummed through the air like a threat.
It had been bait.
And Mattheo had bitten—hard.
You should be grateful he was here, buried between your thighs and punishing your pretty little cunt instead of rotting in Azkaban for what he’d almost done to that pathetic boy.
You were certain you couldn’t survive another orgasm. The moment the buzzing toy pressed firm against your swollen clit, a raw wail tore from your throat only to be swallowed by the thick magical bubble he’d cast around you. Searing pleasure-pain exploded through your body like lightning, white-hot and merciless. Your hips jerked wildly, trying to twist away, but the knot in your stomach only tightened further, that familiar, devastating coil winding tighter with every brutal pulse.
“I-I’m sorry! I was being—”
Your desperate apology shattered into a pathetic little hiccup as his dark eyes locked onto yours, unblinking. He could see the safe word hovering right there on your tongue, and his lips curved into that cruel smile. The one that promised he’d break you tonight and enjoy every second of it.
But you didn’t say it.
Instead, you collapsed back against the pillows as another weak, shattering orgasm ripped through you. Your whole body trembled violently from head to toe, thighs quivering uncontrollably around the relentless toy. Heat flushed down from your cheeks, blooming across your chest and stomach in deep, rosy waves as your bound hands twisted uselessly against the enchanted restraints, fingers flexing like you could somehow push him away.
“You’re too smart to be this fucking stupid, princess,” Mattheo tsked, the disappointment in his voice laced with dark satisfaction. His fingers finally slipped from your abused cunt with a wet sound that made your cheeks burn hotter, but the toy stayed right where it was. Enchanted to keep buzzing mercilessly against your oversensitive clit, wrecking every raw nerve ending without mercy.
He rose slowly, peeling off his shirt with deliberate movements, revealing the toned, scarred skin you loved tracing with your fingertips in gentler moments. Scars from battles, from curses, from a life that made him dangerous. His cock sprang free as he shoved his pants down, thick, flushed dark red, and leaking steadily at the tip, hard enough to look almost painful.
“But that’s okay, baby,” he murmured, voice low and rough as he stroked himself once, twice, eyes never leaving your wrecked form. “You’ll give in eventually. You always do.”
Mattheo climbed back onto the bed, knees sinking into the mattress as he gripped your thighs and shoved them wider, folding you open like he owned every inch. He dragged the thick head of his cock through your folds, coating himself in your mess, deliberately bumping the buzzing toy still tormenting your clit. Your hips jerked violently, a broken sob tearing from your throat as fresh tears spilled down your temples.
“Mattheo—please—too much, I can’t—”
“You can,” he snapped, notching himself at your entrance. “And you fucking will.” And with one brutal thrust, he buried himself halfway inside you.
The stretch was devastating. Even after his fingers and the toy, his size split you open, forcing your walls to yield around the thick girth. A sharp cry ripped from your lips, muffled by the magical bubble as white-hot painful pleasure flooded your body. You felt every vein and ridge as he worked deeper, slower this time, savoring the way your pussy fluttered and clenched around the invasion.
“Fuck, so tight,” he hissed through gritted teeth, eyes dark and mean as he watched your face contort. “Even after I wrecked you, this greedy hole still has to fight to take me. That’s my girl.”
He bottomed out with a final snap of his hips, the head of his cock pressing so deep you swore you could feel him in your stomach. The toy kept buzzing mercilessly against your clit, and the dual sensation made your vision spark white. Another orgasm crashed over you almost immediately—weak and pathetic, your walls spasming so hard around his cock that he groaned, hips stuttering.
But he didn’t stop. His hips snapped in deep, punishing strokes that dragged against every oversensitive inch inside you. The wet, filthy sound of his cock slamming into your soaked cunt filled the room, mixed with your hiccuping sobs and the relentless buzz.
“You let him touch you,” Mattheo snarled, leaning down to bite at your neck, hips snapping harder. “Was it worth it, princess? Ya think I’d just let it go?”
“I-I’m sorry!” The words finally broke free on a wail, your bound hands twisting uselessly as another brutal thrust made your back arch clean off the bed. “Mattheo, please! I was being stupid, I didn’t mean it— I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—”
Your voice cracked into desperate begging, tears streaming freely now. “Don’t be mad at me… please don’t be mad. I only want you. Only you. I swear—”
He slowed, just slightly, hips still grinding deep as he studied your wrecked face. The mean glint in his eyes flickered with something softer bleeding through, even if the jealousy still burned hot beneath it. His hand came up to cup your jaw, thumb brushing away a rogue tear.
“Yeah?” His voice was still rough, breath hot against your lips. “All fucking mine. Say it while I’m buried inside you.”
“I’m yours,” you sobbed, clenching around his cock as another wave of overstimulation threatened to pull you under. “Only yours. Please… m’sorry.”
Mattheo cursed under his breath, forehead dropping to yours. The punishing rhythm eased into something slower and deeper that was still overwhelming, but no longer cruel. “I’m still very mad,” he admitted, voice low and raw. “But fuck… you sound so pretty when you beg.”
He finally kissed you then. It’s messy, possessive, tasting your tears as he keeps fucking into you, letting you fall apart around him one more time before he finally chases his own release.
phone works 2 ways, you know? — christopher o. sturniolo
“chris. this is unbelievable!” i cried. my eyes focused towards the boy in front of me.
“really y/n? how is any of this my fault?” Chris questioned, standing up.
“you. you’re here at my house, upset at me because i haven’t called you in months.” i stated, sniffling.
“yeah! and what’s so wrong with that, huh?” he asked, with a upset expression.
“you’re here uninvited! mad at me! everything is wrong with that! god, how many times do i have to explain it to you, huh?” i explained.
“you don’t call me. you never text. i don’t get even the slightest bit of conversation from you! but, you’re mad at me?” i scuff, shaking my head. “it’s unfair, cheistopher.” i sighed.
“how is it unfair, y/n?” he asked, a puzzled look on his face “explain it to me!”
god, i felt like an idiot for even thinking about opening my mouth to even explain to him why it’s unfair. yet, i still did anyway. i never listened to myself.
“oh, i don’t know. maybe all those nights i stayed up texting you. hoping for even a one word answer.” i defended. i could feel the salt from the tears pouring down my face.
“when have you ever texted me, y/n? i’ve…never received anything from you.” chris faltered, unsure if you were serious or not.
“of course you don’t.” i hissed, rolling my eyes.
“i text you for months on end. now, when i finally stop, you wanna come and see me? i mean, how is that fair? i wasted so many months waiting.” i croaked. i could feel the sensation of heat rising through my face, anger starting to set.
i felt so much anger towards him. i mean, how could chris just do that to me? he finally shows up at my house, but only after i stop messaging him. it doesn’t make any sense. all i ever did was wait for him, and it was all for nothing.
i mean, i loved him. but, it just wasn’t there anymore. i had moved on, i was finally happy. happy to start over in my love life.
“look, i’m sorry okay? i was just hoping you would call me.” chris replied, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.
“i did. god, i did, christopher. you were just always too damn busy.” i corrected, running my hands through my hair out of frustration.
“you just never called me.” i sighed, taking a deep breath.
“but, don’t just sit in front of me, waiting for me to call—you could’ve called me up.” i stammered.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
