Page 23 of Alien War Daddy's Got Rizz
I growl. Low. Savage.
I kneel between her thighs, guiding the head of my cock to her entrance. Her pussy is soaked—hot, swollen, slick with need.
“I’ll go slow.”
“No,” she whispers. “I want to feel all of it.”
Gods.
I push in.
Slow. Inch by inch. Her tight heat stretches around me, and I grit my teeth, muscles straining with the effort it takes not to lose control. She gasps, arching into me, clutching my shoulders.
“Fuck—Grau—you’re?—”
“I know.”
I bottom out inside her, buried to the hilt.
She cries out, but not in pain. Her nails dig into my back. Her pussy clamps around me, fluttering, adjusting.
“Yours,” she gasps. “I’m yours.”
I hold still, panting against her throat, letting her feel me—letting her know exactly what she’s taken.
Then I move.
Slow at first. Deep, steady thrusts that make her moan into my neck. My cock drags against every nerve inside her, and she clenches harder each time, like she doesn’t want to let me go.
Her legs wrap around my waist.
I fuck her harder.
The couch shifts with every thrust. Our bodies move in tandem, breath and sweat and sound. Her moans are music, her gasps a chorus. She clings to me like I’m the last solid thing in a world spinning too fast.
And maybe I am.
“Yara,” I groan. “You feel like fire. You’re so fucking tight.”
“Don’t stop,” she pants. “Please, don’t stop.”
I won’t.
I grip her hips, angle deeper.
She screams.
That spot. I found it.
I hit it again.
And again.
She sobs my name, clawing at my back, her body shivering under me.
“I can’t?—”
“You can,” I growl. “Come on my cock. Let me feel it.”
