The dim lights from out bled through the floor-to-ceiling windows mixing with the pink smoke, casting Amanda’s sweat-sheened skin in gold. I had her bent over the polished marble grand piano—her elbows braced on the cool, glossy surface, silk robe puddled around her waist.
The air hummed with the phantom echoes of earlier screams, thick with jasmine and sex.
"Beg." My voice cut through the haze—low, resonant.
Amanda’s breath hitched. Her knuckles whitened on the piano lid. "Peter, I—"
"Beg for it, Amanda." My palm slid up the curve of her spine; fingers splayed between her shoulder blades. I pressed down—not forcing her flat, but anchoring her. Submitting her.
Her head dropped forward, auburn hair shielding her face. A tremor ran through her thighs. "Please..." The word cracked. "Please... fuck my cunt with that giant cock... STRETCH ME."
"Not enough." I leaned over her, the heat of my chest branding her back. My cock—veined, heavy, weeping—nestled between her slick folds. Teasing. "Tell me what you need."
"I need—" Her hips rocked back, seeking friction. "I need your cock to break me. I need you to ruin me for anyone else."
I rewarded her honesty. Not with speed, but with depth.
I gripped her hips—thumbs fitting the hollows like sculpted clay—and pushed. Slowly. The thick head of my cock parted her swollen folds, stretching her wide. Amanda’s breath caught in a choked gasp, her body going rigid. "Oh god—"
I didn’t stop.
Centimeter by centimeter, I filled her—until the blunt tip kissed her cervix. She shuddered, a full-body spasm, nails scrabbling at the polished wood. "Too deep—"
"It’s exactly where you belong," I growled. Stayed buried. Felt her inner walls fluttering—gripping, adjusting, surrendering to the invasion.
Then I moved.
Out. Retreating until only the crown remained inside her. Her pussy clamped down, clinging—a silent plea.
In. Sinking back into molten heat. Deeper. Hitting that spot that made her see stars. "FUCK!"
Out. Slower. Agonizing. Feeling every ridge of her clench around me.
In. Harder. Grinding against her cervix. Brutal. "PETER!"
Again. And again. A rhythm designed to undo her. Each withdrawal dragged a whimper. Each thrust earned a sob. Sweat rolled down her spine, pooling in the small of her back. The piano creaked beneath us, counterpoint to her cries.
"Tight little cunt," I groaned, watching my cock disappear into her pink flesh. "So, fucking greedy for me, my Darling."
"Only for you," she sobbed, forehead pressed to the cool wood. "Always only for you..."
I changed the angle slightly—pulling her hips up, forcing her onto her toes. Then I drove in—relentless, deep, grinding.
"OH GOD—RIGHT THERE—DON’T STOP—" Her voice shattered. I felt it then—the telltale flutter deep inside, the quiver starting in her thighs. The knot tightening low in her belly.
"Come for me, Amanda." My hand snaked around, fingers finding her clit. Pressed hard. Circled in time with my thrusts.
"PETER—!" Her scream tore through the room, raw and ragged. Her entire body convulsed—pussy clamping down like a vise, gushing hot over my cock, back arching violently as the climax ripped her apart.
I didn’t stop fucking her. Pounded her through it. Each thrust dragging another wave of pleasure-pain from her ruined cunt. "That’s my girl" I snarled, driving deep one final time. "Fucking mine."
Amanda collapsed forward, boneless on the piano. Sobs shook her shoulders—tears of release, of surrender. "Yours..." she whispered, voice shot. "Always yours."
I stayed buried inside her for a long moment—feeling her pulse flutter around my length, marking her. Ruined. Conquered. Mine.
Slowly, reluctantly, I withdrew. Cum and slickness gushed from her swollen pussy, painting the insides of her thighs. I watched it drip onto the marble below—a glistening testament to devotion.
**

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