My hot fantasy 5
Lena could hardly survive the night. The spot on her hip where his f****rs had grazed her burned like a brand – a constant reminder of his words: "You know how it feels now." The pendant lay heavy on her chest, pulsating with every heartbeat, awakening a throbbing desire between her legs. She touched herself again and again, imagining him taking her, but it wasn't enough. Nothing was enough.
The next evening, she rushed to the archway, the rain pounding down again, soaking her to the skin. He was waiting, his jacket open, his eyes glowing. "You came," he said, his voice rough as gravel. Without another word, he grabbed her arm, pulled her into the deep shadow of the arch, pressed her against the cool, wet stone wall.
His lips conquered her mouth – hungry, dominant, t****e demanding. Lena gasped into the kiss, her hands clawing into his wet shirt. "Please," she whispered, as he broke away, only to bite her neck, suck, mark her. One hand slipped under her skirt, pushed her panties aside. "So wet for me," he murmured, satisfied, his f****r dipped in, circled her c**t, then two f****rs, stretching, thrusting. She arched herself to him, moaned loudly, the pendant hot against her skin.
"Not enough yet," he growled, pulling his hand back – only to unbuckle his belt. His c**k sprang free, hard, thick, dripping with anticipation. He lifted her leg, positioned himself. "Look at me." With a hard thrust, he penetrated her – filled her completely, stretched her to the limit. Lena screamed, a mix of pain and pure ecstasy. He f**ked her mercilessly: deep, fast, his hips slapping against hers, one hand around her neck, lightly pressing, the other kneading her breast, twisting the hard nipple through the fabric.
"Come for me," he commanded, and she did – waves of pleasure tore her apart, her walls milking him as she trembled to o****m. He followed with an animalistic grunt, pumped himself into her, hot and endless. Breathing heavily, he held her tight, kissed her tenderly. "The fire burns brighter," he whispered. "More tomorrow."
Then he was gone, left her shivering, his semen running down her thighs. The pendant glowed triumphantly. Lena knew: She was addicted.

