Taken Just Like That

Introduction:

Welcome to a night where control isn't just surrendered it's ripped away. This is the story of Amela, a woman used to being in charge, and one man who knows how to take that power from her and use it to drive her wild. Here, CNC is mixed with pleasure. Every gasp, every slap, every breathless word is a dance between risk and trust, where pleasure and power collide in the dark. You're about to step into Amela's most secret fantasy a world where she can finally lose herself, and Stefan can show her what it means to be truly, thoroughly pleasured when you give up the control.

****

The house was quiet, saturated with the thick, lazy silence that only comes after midnight. Stefan sat alone on the edge of the mattress, bare-chested, every muscle tense with anticipation. He checked his phone 2:46 a. m. Amela's shift at the hospital had run late. He'd been waiting for her, working himself up with the thought of her stumbling in, exhausted, helpless, too tired to put up that usual wall of dominance she wore so well.

The front door finally opened with a click. He heard the telltale sound of her keys tossed on the hall table, the familiar shuffle of her sneakers being kicked off, then the drag of her bare feet across the hardwood. She was home. He felt his cock twitch against his shorts, a slow heat building in his gut.

Amela entered the bedroom like a sleepwalker her hair a wild halo from the drive, cheeks flushed from the cold, hospital badge still slung around her neck. There was something beautiful in her vulnerability at that moment: her fierce eyes half lidded with exhaustion, shoulders slumped, lips parted as she breathed out the day. She didn't even notice him at first.

She peeled off her badge and dumped it onto the dresser, shrugged out of her wrinkled scrub top and let it drop in a careless pile. Her skin glowed golden and faintly slick, the faint trace of sweat from hours of work lingering under her arms and between her breasts. She didn't seem to care, and neither did Stefan he found himself inhaling deeply, catching that hint of her, raw and salty, under the generic detergent scent of the hospital.

Next, she slid off her pants, pausing only to wiggle out of the waistband, exposing long legs, tight from years of standing and running at work. Stefan's gaze followed every move, hungry. She pulled her hair free from its messy bun and let it tumble down her back, then shimmied out of her panties, tossing them with the rest of her clothes, not even glancing his way.

Wordless and tired, Amela stepped into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Stefan heard the hiss of water, the thud of her clothes landing on the floor. The door remained cracked, just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her silhouette moving behind the steamy glass. He pictured her rubbing herself down quickly, efficient, as always the kind of woman who never let herself indulge, always in control, even in her self-care.

He listened for the small noises the soft splash of water, the muted groan as she stretched out a sore muscle, the sound of shampoo being lathered and rinsed away. She finished fast, as if afraid that if she lingered, she'd never be able to crawl out again.

When she finally emerged, towel dried and damp, she barely made it to the dresser before collapsing. She fumbled for one of his hoodies three sizes too big, soft and already smelling of him. She slipped it over her bare body, the hem riding up over her ass as she staggered toward the bed, legs wobbling with exhaustion.

Stefan watched every second, barely breathing. She didn't notice him sitting there, half shrouded by shadow, and he made no move to speak or announce himself. This was the night he'd been waiting for the night she came home, too tired to fight, too trusting to expect anything but rest.

She dropped onto the bed face down, her arms outstretched, hoodie riding up and leaving her lower half almost entirely bare. The sight was devastating her tight, round ass peeking out, thighs parted, glistening with the faint sheen of water. She exhaled heavily, settling in with a quiet whimper, the kind she never let herself make when awake.

Within seconds, Amela was out. Her breathing slowed, deepened, filling the silence with the gentle cadence of true sleep. One arm curled beneath her head, the other fell loosely at her side. The hoodie bunched around her waist, baring the soft curve of her hips and the valley of her lower back. Her skin, still damp, glowed in the soft light filtering through the curtains.

Stefan let his eyes wander hungrily. He admired every inch of her: the elegant curve of her neck, the wild spill of hair across the pillow, the swell of her ass exposed beneath the hem of his hoodie. Even in sleep, she radiated confidence, a challenge. But not tonight.

He stood, stepping closer, feeling the mattress dip beneath his weight. His cock throbbed against his shorts, straining to be let loose. He took a long, slow breath, letting the scent of her clean skin, sweat, his own detergent flood his senses.

Tonight, she wasn't the boss. Tonight, she wouldn't order him to slow down, to take it easy, to "be a good boy" like she always teased. Tonight, she was utterly at his mercy.

Stefan knelt at the edge of the bed, gaze lingering on the hollow of her back, the way her thighs fell apart ever so slightly, making space for him. He reached out, careful, almost reverent at first. His fingertips brushed the outside of her thigh, light enough not to wake her yet. He watched her breathing for any change, any sign of stirring. Nothing. Just the steady rise and fall, the soft exhale from parted lips.

He slid his hand up, over the gentle curve of her hip, then down, tracing the crease where thigh met ass. Her skin was warm, soft, yielding beneath his palm. He let his hand drift further, settling across her lower back, feeling the faint tremor of muscles relaxing into sleep.

A surge of hunger rolled through him raw, primal. He ran his hand up beneath the hoodie, palm skating over the swell of her ass. He pressed himself closer, his cock now fully hard, already leaking against the fabric of his shorts.

He couldn't resist anymore. He lowered his face, breathing in the scent of her clean, wild, and just a little bit musky from her long shift. He grazed his lips against her skin, tracing a slow, possessive line from the small of her back to the base of her spine. Amela let out a tiny, involuntary sigh, her body unconsciously shifting toward the touch.

Stefan's hand traveled upward, gentle but with intent, gliding over her hip and up to her side. He pressed his palm flat against her ribcage, feeling the flutter of her breathing. She was utterly defenseless, trusting, asleep in his arms and completely at his mercy.

He leaned over, his lips close to her ear, and whispered so softly it was more sensation than sound, "You said I could use you whenever I wanted, Amela. Tonight, I'm going to."

He watched her for any sign of resistance. Nothing. She stayed limp, only her breath catching for a split second at the warmth of his whisper, then falling right back into deep sleep.

A slow grin spread across Stefan's face. The anticipation burned through him, equal parts lust and the heady rush of knowing she'd given him this permission, trusted him to take what he wanted. He slid a hand down between her thighs, feeling the softness, the heat there, already slick with a different kind of sweat. Even in sleep, her body was ready.

He took his time, savoring every second. There would be no slow, gentle waking tonight just a gradual build, a subtle invasion, risky at first, then merciless.

This was just the beginning.

****

The silence in the bedroom pulsed with a dangerous, forbidden energy. Stefan stayed perfectly still for a moment, soaking in the view Amela's body sprawled across the bed, hoodie bunched high on her waist, the tender line of her ass exposed to the cool night air. She looked like temptation itself, and tonight, she wouldn't even see it coming.

He hovered over her, breathing in the faint sweetness of her damp skin, the raw edge of exhaustion clinging to her. The idea of her being so helpless, so deeply asleep, sent a spark down his spine. This was the line he'd fantasized about: the edge between her total surrender and the thrill of getting away with just a little more. He could feel the ache in his cock thick, heavy, throbbing for release.

Carefully, Stefan slipped out of his shorts, letting his cock spring free. The cool air made him hiss between his teeth, and he gripped himself at the base, pressing the swollen head along the cleft of Amela's ass. He paused, heart thundering, eyes trained on her face for any flicker of awareness. Nothing just the gentle, rhythmic sound of her sleep, a faint whimper as her body shifted in response to his heat.

He pressed his big cock between her cheeks, grinding softly, letting the shaft rest in the valley, warm skin on skin. He started slow, only moving his hips enough to drag the thick length back and forth, watching the way her body instinctively adjusted. He marveled at how her ass clenched, almost as if she was trying to draw him in, even as she slept.

He couldn't resist a quiet, filthy whisper: "That's it, sweetheart. Even asleep, your body knows what it wants."

Next, his hand slid up her thigh, fingers ghosting over smooth skin until they found the soft mound at the apex. He parted her gently, feeling her warmth, and traced slow, lazy circles over her bare pussy lips. The first brush told him everything she was wet, slick, the heat of her center unmistakable. Stefan grinned in the dark. Her hips twitched, a tiny, helpless movement, followed by a breathy moan she'd never have let herself make awake.

He leaned closer, lips brushing the shell of her ear, savoring the shiver that traveled down her spine. "You're soaked for me, baby. Bet you don't even know."

He let his thumb flick softly over her clit, his other hand exploring the delicate curves of her breast, squeezing gently, rolling her nipple between his fingers. He watched for any reaction a gasp, a murmur, the flutter of lashes but Amela stayed deep in sleep, the pleasure working its way through her, claiming her body before her mind could even catch up.

Stefan's heart pounded. The risk was intoxicating. He slid down the bed, head level with her ass, and pressed his face between her thighs, inhaling the heady, musky scent of her arousal. He let his tongue dart out, flicking her clit just once, tasting her. She let out a choked whimper, her hips bucking up instinctively. Still, she didn't wake.

His cock throbbed with urgent need thick, flushed dark with blood, veins pulsing just beneath the surface. He moved up the bed, straddling her pillow, his size and presence looming over Amela's sleeping face. The shaft looked almost obscene next to her delicate features, heavy and full, the head swollen and leaking beads of slick precum that glistened in the soft light.

With a trembling hand, Stefan angled himself, teasing the fat, head right against her lips. He traced the seam of her mouth with the tip, smearing it with precum until her lips shone, glossy and wet. Her mouth parted unconsciously, warm breath spilling over the sensitive skin, making him shudder. He eased just the head past her lips, feeling the gentle pressure, the hot slickness of her tongue as she murmured and moaned in her sleep, unaware she was already tasting him.

For a long moment, he lingered, savoring the way her lips clung to him, the sight of his cock stretching her mouth so beautifully. The urge to thrust was overwhelming, but he held back, letting the anticipation burn.

Finally, he pulled out, leaving her lips parted and shining, a faint trail of slick connecting her mouth to his tip. He wrapped his hand around his thick shaft and began stroking himself slowly, right in front of her face long, deliberate pulls from base to tip. The sight was intoxicating: his fat cock standing rigid, inches from her slack lips, her skin dewy and soft, her lashes fluttering as she dreamed.

He groaned softly, watching a fresh bead of precum swell at the tip and drip onto her lower lip, slicking it further. He dragged the length of his cock along her cheek, leaving a glistening trail, then across her jaw, marking her skin with every slow pump.

"You look so fucking perfect like this," he whispered, his voice barely more than a growl. "You don't even know what you do to me sleeping here, mouth wet and ready, letting me use you however I want."

He paused to watch her reaction, savoring the image his big, heavy cock so close to her pretty face, her lips still parted and shining, her cheeks flushed, oblivious and utterly vulnerable. It was almost too much to handle, and he had to force himself to slow down, to enjoy every wicked, beautiful second.

He scooted back down, grinding the full length of his cock between her cheeks again. This time, he pressed harder, his heavy shaft pulsing against her slick pussy lips, gliding through the wetness he'd coaxed out of her body. He watched, mesmerized, as her hips rolled forward, her thighs spreading just a little wider, as if she was unconsciously begging for more.

The sounds of the room changed a soft creak of the mattress, the steady slap of skin as he rocked against her, the wet, filthy slide of his cock parting her folds. Her whimpers grew a little louder, throatier, punctuated by shallow breaths and the tiniest, pleading sighs.

He brought his mouth close to her ear again, voice darker, more commanding now. "You don't even know how wet you are for me. Look at you already begging and you're not even awake."

He couldn't take much more. He reached down, guiding the head of his cock to her opening, rubbing it in slow, tight circles around her entrance, feeling the shudder that ran through her whole body. She whimpered, a broken sound, hips pushing back with instinctive need.

Stefan grinned, utterly in control. He gave her pussy a light slap, just enough to make the wet sound echo in the room, then slid two fingers inside her, feeling her walls clench greedily around him. He pumped them slowly, curling to stroke her sweet spot, watching her hips jerk, her breath stutter.

He whispered, a filthy promise, "You're not getting away tonight. I'm going to take everything you have."

As he worked her with his fingers, he stroked himself with the other hand, eyes locked on the way her body surrendered, utterly unguarded. Every sound, every movement, every breath was a symphony of helpless pleasure.

He paused, savoring the moment. This was it the line between risk and ruin, the moment just before everything would tip over into something even deeper, darker, and completely unstoppable.

****

Stefan paused, two fingers still buried inside Amela, his cock slick with the wetness from her folds. He stared down at her, chest rising and falling with the weight of his restraint. She looked so soft so open, so breakable. It was the kind of temptation that would have made any other man hesitate, but for Stefan, it was exactly what he'd been waiting for.

He shifted his weight, knees bracing on either side of her thighs, and let his cock rest at her entrance. He pressed just the head inside, circling slowly, smearing her slickness across himself. Amela shivered, hips rolling toward him, breath hitching in her sleep. Her mouth parted, a helpless gasp slipping out, low and hungry.

Stefan leaned over her, his chest pressing into her back, lips brushing the shell of her ear. "You said I could have you whenever I wanted, didn't you?" His voice was barely a whisper, thick with desire and threat.

She murmured something soft, unintelligible. Her thighs parted wider. Stefan grinned in the darkness.

He gave one last, slow grind, letting the swollen head push past her entrance, stretching her open. Then, without warning, he snapped his hips forward, burying himself deep inside her in a single, devastating thrust.

The room filled with sound: the sharp slap of skin, the wet, obscene noise of her pussy taking every inch, the sudden creak of the mattress as her whole body jolted awake. Amela gasped, her back arching, muscles clenching around him.

"Wait what...?" she choked, half-dreaming, half-awake, eyes fluttering open to the shadows.

Stefan didn't give her a second to catch up. He wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his body, hand clamping over her mouth before she could make another sound.

"Too late, baby," he growled into her hair. "I'm already balls deep. You said I could use you whenever I wanted. So I am."

Amela wriggled beneath him, confusion warring with the flood of sensation. Her body tried to resist tried to reclaim the control she always held but her hips betrayed her, rolling back into him, squeezing his big fat cock with desperate need.

He pulled back, then drove in harder, setting a punishing rhythm that sent the bed groaning against the floorboards. The sound filled the room: wet, filthy squelching, her muffled whimpers beneath his palm, the deep, hungry growl that rumbled from his chest every time he bottomed out inside her.

Stefan leaned in, voice thick with filth and affection. "You like this, don't you? Being woken up stuffed full of cock. You can't hide it, Amela. The tighter you get, the more you moan, the wetter you are. You were made to be used."

She moaned into his hand, hips shaking as he slapped her ass with his free palm hard enough to leave a mark. The sting sent a fresh gush of wetness over his cock, and he chuckled, low and approving.

"That's it, good girl. Take it. That's all you have to do now just take it."

Amela's mind spun, halfway between resistance and submission. Part of her screamed to push him off, to demand he slow down, to make him remember who was usually in charge. But the deeper, darker part the one she never let herself acknowledge rejoiced at every rough thrust, every filthy word, every slap and squeeze and bite.

She tried to wriggle free, just once, twisting her hips in an instinctive play for control. Stefan felt it instantly, and his answer was a merciless pinning of her wrists above her head, using his weight to keep her utterly helpless.

"Oh, you think you're taking charge now?" he teased, voice rough with laughter. "That's cute. Keep dreaming, princess. Tonight, you're mine."

He leaned down, grinding his cock even deeper, the sound of skin on skin echoing around them. "You're my little cumdump tonight. All you have to do is moan and take it."

The praise and filth blended together, washing over Amela in waves. She couldn't help herself her moans grew louder, more desperate, every inch of her body begging for more. She tried to bite his hand, tried to shake him off, but it only made him fuck her harder.

"Moan for me," Stefan ordered, pulling his hand from her mouth just long enough to hear the sound, "That's it. Louder. I want you to remember this every time you close your eyes. You're never going to forget how it feels to wake up already fucked and owned."

Her voice finally broke free a high, desperate, hungry sound she'd never let herself make awake. "Don't stop... please... Stefan... don't you dare stop..."

He growled, gripping her hips so tight she'd be bruised for days, pounding into her with punishing, relentless force. "You feel how tight you are now? The more I use you, the tighter you get. You want this you need this."

The bed shook with every thrust, the slap of flesh wet and obscene, their bodies tangled and wild and perfect in the dark. Amela's will melted, her mind stripped bare by the pleasure and the loss of power, every ounce of resistance dissolving under Stefan's unyielding dominance.

She whimpered, half-broken, half-awake, and all his. "Keep using me... please..."

And Stefan did, never once letting her forget exactly who was in charge.

****

Stefan didn't let up for a moment. The bed creaked louder, thumping against the wall with every relentless thrust. He had Amela pinned beneath him, hands locked above her head, her cheek pressed to the mattress as she panted and moaned, hair splayed wild around her face. The sound of skin slapping wetly, his cock gliding in and out of her soaked pussy, filled the room, punctuated by Stefan's low, animal growls.

Every time Amela tried to push up out of habit, reaching for control Stefan slammed her wrists down harder, tightening his grip until she whimpered in frustration and need.

"You really think you're in charge tonight? Cute," he sneered into her ear, his voice a dark, hungry rasp. He yanked her head back by the hair, making her arch, her exposed neck trembling beneath his hand. "No one's ever taken it from you like this, have they? You're not going anywhere. Not until I'm finished."

He shifted, twisting her onto her side, never once leaving her body. He bent her knee high to her chest, spreading her wide, then drove into her even deeper, making her gasp, the sound sharp and breathless. He reached around, one big hand cupping her jaw, thumb tracing her lips, forcing her to look at him as he pounded into her, harder with every stroke.

"Look at you," he whispered, almost tender. "Taking all of me. Good girl. You feel how deep you are right now? This is what you've been begging for in your sleep."

Amela's head spun. She tried, once, to snap her hips forward, to grind against him and seize control. Stefan read her instantly, shifting his weight to trap her completely, his palm flattening across her mouth to muffle the wanton moan that tore from her throat.

"Shh," he taunted, eyes glittering, "Don't wake the neighbors. Or do let them hear how much you love being fucked like this."

His hand slid down, fingers curling around her throat not tight, just enough to own every sound she made. He pulled her back, her spine bowing, until his lips grazed her ear again.

"You're my little cumdump tonight. You hear me? This is what you're for being ruined, filled up, and used." His hand squeezed just a little, making her eyes roll back, pleasure and surrender twisting together inside her.

He released her throat just long enough to slap her ass, sharp and loud, the sting blooming under his palm. The sound echoed in the room, mixing with her gasping, with the slick, obscene rhythm of his cock pounding into her again and again.

"You're such a good girl," Stefan growled, praise and filth in every word. "Taking all of me, just like that. So tight for me. The more I use you, the tighter you get like your body never wants me to leave."

Amela whimpered beneath him, hands fisted in the sheets, every part of her shaking. The urge to take over, to regain control, flickered and died every time he pushed her further, every time his hand locked around her throat or silenced her cries.

She finally broke, voice muffled but desperate: "Don't stop... please... harder... more..."

Stefan's laugh was deep, full of dark promise. "You want more? That's all you have to say."

He dragged her to the edge of the bed, flipping her onto her stomach, ass up, her legs dangling. With one hand tangled in her hair, the other spreading her cheeks, he lined up again and thrust in to the hilt, driving her face into the mattress.

The sounds grew wild: the slap of his hips against her ass, her muffled screams, the bed's protest under their bodies, Stefan's savage, hungry grunts. He leaned down, pressing his lips to her ear.

"Moan for me. Scream for me. Let me hear how bad you need it. That's it good girl."

Amela's cries were pure surrender, body wracked with pleasure, every inch of her lit up and overwhelmed. She shuddered as he slammed into her, again and again, his pace punishing and perfect.

He reached between her legs, found her clit, and rubbed circles, relentless and skilled, never letting up as she convulsed around him, orgasm hitting her so hard her vision whited out.

"Fuck, that's it," he hissed, voice feral. "You were made for this. Mine. Only mine."

And with that, she shattered mind, body, and voice lost to the sound of him, to the feeling of being utterly taken, thoroughly owned.

****

Stefan wasn't done not even close. He wanted every piece of her. As Amela's body trembled in the aftershocks of her orgasm, he grabbed her by the hair, pulling her up until her face hovered inches from the edge of the bed. She blinked, dazed, flushed and shining with sweat, lips parted in helpless anticipation.

Without a word, Stefan climbed onto the bed, kneeling so that his cock thick, swollen, glistening with her slick hung directly in front of her mouth. He held her by the chin, forcing her to look up into his eyes.

"Open," he commanded, voice rough and low.

Amela's breath came in shuddering gasps. She tried to resist for a moment out of habit, out of pride but the look in his eyes and the lingering ache between her thighs made her obey. She parted her lips, tongue flicking out to taste the salty mix of herself and him on his skin.

Stefan let out a guttural sound of approval. He slapped the head of his cock against her lips, smearing them with slick, before thrusting slowly forward, pushing past her lips and onto her tongue. He groaned as her mouth stretched to accommodate him, the heat and tightness nearly enough to make him lose control.

"Look at you, Amela," he crooned, sliding deeper. "Choking on my cock and you're still so fucking eager. You love it, don't you? You want me to use your mouth just like I use your pussy."

He pushed in farther, feeling the resistance at the back of her throat. She gagged, her eyes watering as she struggled to take him, but she didn't try to pull away. He gave her a few seconds to adjust, letting her catch her breath, then tightened his grip in her hair and started to move slow at first, then faster, fucking her mouth with steady, claiming strokes.

The room filled with new sounds: the wet, desperate suck of her lips around his cock, the faint choking, the slap of his hips against her face, Stefan's relentless growls of pleasure.

He alternated filthy talk and praise, his voice a rolling tide above her:

"That's it, good girl. Take it. Take every inch."

"Fuck, you look perfect like this tears running, mouth ruined, so obedient for me."

"You're my little cumdump tonight, Amela. This mouth is mine too."

"Gonna fuck this throat until you forget how to talk, then fill you up again down there."

He kept going, never letting up. Every time she started to choke or tried to turn her head, he held her steady, sometimes slapping her cheek lightly, sometimes just holding her in place until she calmed, eyes streaming, drool spilling from the corners of her mouth.

Amela's mind was fogged with submission, her own arousal flaring again as Stefan claimed her so completely. The praise hit just as hard as the filth, melting her resistance until all she wanted was to please him, to be used, to let him do whatever he wanted.

She whimpered around his cock, the vibration making him shudder. He pulled out just enough to let her breathe, then thrust back in, harder, deeper, over and over.

"Such a good slut for me," he growled. "Choke on it. That's right just like that. You're gonna make me cum so hard down your throat."

She tried to speak, to plead, but all that came out was muffled, desperate noises. He held her there a moment longer, hips grinding, cock buried to the hilt in her mouth.

Finally, he pulled free, panting, his cock shining with spit and slick. He dragged her up, kissing her hard, tasting himself on her tongue.

"Not done with you yet, baby," he promised, voice thick with satisfaction and hunger. "I'm gonna use every part of you tonight."

****

Stefan didn't give her a moment to catch her breath. He spun Amela around, strong hands on her waist, dragging her to the very edge of the mattress until her knees barely touched the floor and her upper body collapsed onto the bed. Her hair spilled across the sheets, sweat-slicked and wild, her skin flushed and glistening. She was his open, exposed, and shaking with anticipation.

He didn't hesitate. With one arm he gripped her hip, yanking her back and up so her ass jutted high, her pussy wet and swollen and begging to be filled again. With the other, he tangled his fist in her hair, yanking her head back so she had no choice but to arch and submit.

"Look at you," he growled, voice thick with pride and filth, "kneeling for me, ass up, ready for more. You were made for this, Amela. For me to use. For me to break."

He slapped her ass, hard and sharp, the sound echoing in the room. She cried out a raw, desperate sound and her body clenched, pussy dripping onto the sheets. The bed creaked, the air thick with the slap of skin, the squelch of her soaked heat as he pressed the thick head of his cock against her entrance and slid in, slow at first, then rough and deep, burying himself to the root.

Amela moaned, voice muffled in the bedding, trying to brace herself, trying to resist the wave of sensation. "Too much fuck Stefan "

He didn't let up. He leaned over her, lips by her ear, his breath hot and ragged. "You wanted to be used. You begged for this, every time you looked at me and pretended you didn't need it. Every time you were the one in charge you were just waiting for someone to take it away. That's me, baby. That's what I'm doing now."

She shook her head weakly, but her hips pushed back, her body betraying her over and over. He grinned, loving the battle her instinct to fight, her need to surrender.

"Try all you want, Amela. You're not getting away. Not until I've emptied myself inside you. Not until you beg for it."

She whimpered, voice broken and low. "Please... harder... please, Stefan, don't stop..."

His hand snaked around to her mouth, clamping tight over her lips to muffle her screams as he drove into her, relentless and merciless. Every thrust sent her body jolting forward, every slap of his hips on her ass rang in her ears. He pulled her back, arching her higher, making her take every inch.

"You're my good girl, aren't you?" he taunted, voice mixing filth with raw affection. "You take all of me. You're so fucking tight, so wet you're my perfect little cumdump tonight."

Without warning, Stefan pulled out, the sudden emptiness making Amela gasp and clench, her pussy fluttering in desperate need. She barely had time to catch her breath before he was dropping to his knees behind her, strong hands gripping her thighs and spreading her open. His face was hot and hungry against her skin, and then his tongue was everywhere lapping up her slick, tracing the swollen folds, flicking her clit with relentless, skillful strokes.

Amela bucked against his mouth, muffled moans tumbling from behind his hand. Stefan growled his approval, the sound vibrating against her pussy, making her hips jerk. He buried his face deeper, tongue plunging inside her, licking up everything he'd spilled and everything she'd given. Every movement was possessive, filthy, consuming.

He didn't stop there. With one hand spreading her ass, he let his tongue wander lower, circling her tight little asshole, teasing it with gentle licks and broad, wet strokes. The sensation made her whole body shudder shocked, overwhelmed, impossibly turned on. He took his time, alternating between tongue-fucking her pussy and dragging slow, deliberate laps over her most sensitive spots until she was trembling, body melting, legs barely able to hold her up.

Just as she was on the brink, Stefan rose up behind her, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes dark and feral. He gripped the base of his cock, lined it up again, and shoved back inside her in one powerful thrust, making her cry out as her body clenched around him, deeper and fuller than before.

He slammed into her harder, relentless and hungry, the sounds of wet skin and desperate gasps filling the room as he took her all over again.

Her whole body trembled, walls clenching around him, each thrust building her closer and closer to the edge. He released her mouth, fingers slipping down to rub her clit, fast and ruthless, never breaking his rhythm.

"Come for me," he demanded. "Show me who you belong to."

Amela couldn't hold back. Her cry split the air as her orgasm crashed over her, every muscle locking down, her pussy clenching so tight it nearly pulled him over the edge with her. Stefan roared, hips pistoning faster, lost in the feeling of her squeezing around him, the heat and slickness and total surrender.

"That's it, baby, just like that fuck you're mine mine "

The room erupted with sound: the sharp, wet smack smack smack of his hips crashing into her ass, each impact echoing off the walls and blending with the slick, desperate noise of her pussy being used.

Amela could barely breathe. Every thrust knocked broken, wild sounds from her throat sometimes muffled, sometimes spilling out between gasps and moans.

"Ah fuck smack oh my god smack so deep smack smack can't too much smack please, don't stop smack smack oh fuck, Stefan smack you're so big smack smack so fucking full "

Her words dissolved into frantic noises half-whimpers, half-screams, her voice cracking every time he bottomed out inside her. The wet slap of his hips grew faster, rougher, the sound obscene and relentless.

Stefan's own breath was ragged, animal. "That's it, Amela. Let everyone hear how you sound when I ruin you."

Her body jolted with every thrust, fingers clawing at the sheets, sweat slicking her back. The pounding filled the room, the mattress protesting beneath them, the slap slap slap of flesh on flesh driving her toward the edge again.

"Fuck smack fuck smack can't... can't take it smack smack more, give me more "

He leaned in, growling in her ear, "You can take all of it. You're mine, every inch. Good girl."

She could only moan smack smack smack her whole body lost in the raw, thunderous rhythm of being pounded, used, and owned.

He slammed into her one last time, buried to the hilt, and exploded inside her, filling her with thick, pulsing waves of cum. He stayed deep, grinding his hips, holding her in place so she couldn't pull away, so she had no choice but to take every drop.

The room was filled with the sound of their breath, the bed creaking softly as they came down, the heavy silence that followed the storm.

Stefan leaned over her, kissed her shoulder, whispered into her ear, "You did so fucking good for me. My perfect girl."

Amela shivered, utterly spent, body marked and aching, every inch of her a reminder of who she belonged to.

****

For a moment, the only sound in the room was their breath deep, ragged, slowly coming down from that high. Amela lay sprawled across the bed, chest heaving, hair wild and tangled, skin marked by Stefan's hands and mouth. Her thighs still trembled from the intensity of her release; the ache and fullness inside her a living reminder of everything he'd done.

Stefan eased out of her, careful and slow, hands gentle now as he helped her roll onto her side. He lay behind her, slipping an arm around her waist, pulling her in tight, his body pressed to hers, anchoring her with warmth and strength.

He brushed the hair from her face, tracing his fingers down her cheek, across her jaw soft where he'd been rough before. He pressed a kiss to her temple and whispered, "You okay, love?"

Amela let out a low, satisfied hum, pressing herself back against him, sighing as she melted into his chest. "Yeah... more than okay." Her voice was raw, half-wrecked, and full of pride.

Stefan slid his hand over her stomach, slow and soothing. "You did so good for me. Took everything I gave you." He nuzzled her ear, voice dropping to a tender murmur, "That was all for you, Amela. You know you're safe with me, always."

She smiled, still floating on the waves of submission and satisfaction. "I trust you," she murmured, fingers tracing lazy circles on the back of his hand. "No one's ever... done that to me. Not like this."

He chuckled, deep and warm, and squeezed her close. "I could tell. All that fight, all that need you wanted someone to finally take it. And you're mine, Amela. All fucking mine."

She grinned, eyes fluttering shut, a sleepy laugh rumbling from her chest. "Good. Because I want more. Next time, I want to see if you can break me for real."

He laughed softly, brushing his lips over her shoulder, pride and promise in every touch. "Next time, I won't even let you sleep first."

They lay tangled together, sweat cooling, the room filled with the faint scent of sex and the comfort of shared satisfaction. Stefan reached down to the floor, grabbed the throw blanket, and pulled it over their bodies, wrapping her up in him, sealing her in his warmth.

Amela drifted toward sleep, her body heavy and sated, marked inside and out by his hands and words. She felt safe. Owned. Desired in a way she'd only ever dreamed about.

As she faded, Stefan pressed one last kiss to her neck, whispering, "Rest now, pretty girl. You earned it."

Her last thought before slipping under was simple and fierce:

This is exactly what I wanted. And tomorrow, I'll let him take it even further.