Rain's POV:
I look at him.
The room feels dense, saturated with something unspoken—heat, tension, the echo of violence that hasn't fully cooled yet.
The faint metallic trace of blood still hangs in the air, sharp against the warmer smells of skin and breath and sweat.
It settles low in my chest, makes everything feel closer, tighter.
He cups my pussy gently, and the response is immediate—heat rushing through me so fast it steals the air from my lungs.
I grab his forearm without thinking, fingers curling around solid muscle, grounding myself in him.
Then I lower myself slowly, deliberately, pressing my wetness into his warm palm.
"Baby—"
"Shhh,"
I murmur, tightening my grip on his arm as I guide his hand exactly where I need it.
"Just let me."
And then I move.
I grind against his palm, slow at first, teasing out the friction, letting it build. Every nerve wakes up at once.
My breath stutters, hips rolling, chasing that perfect pressure.
The sensation spreads warm and dizzying, pooling low, blooming outward.
"Keep your eyes on me," I purr, pushing his hand deeper, soaking his palm.
"Just watch."
"Trust me," he says, voice low and rough, restraint cutting every word.
His eyes are dark—hungry, locked onto me like he might shatter if he looks away. "I am."
I find a rhythm, rocking my hips back and forth, letting the need sharpen.
My clit throbs, oversensitive, begging. I shift, wiggle, searching for more.
I glance up.
The bedsheet is twisted tight in his fists, knuckles pale.
His control is fraying, visible, beautiful.
His cock is hard, aching, and my body leans toward it on instinct—but he catches my wrist.
"I just want to see you fall apart for me."
The words hit low and heavy.
"Do you trust me?" he asks.
"Yes," I answer instantly. No hesitation.
A slow smile curves his mouth.
"Spread those legs, baby."
I do.
"I want to see that tiny pussy making a mess on my palm."
He pulls his cock free and strokes himself slowly, deliberately, never once breaking eye contact. It feels like torture—and worship—all at once.
"You're dripping," he murmurs. "So fucking wet for me."
Whatever he says dissolves before it reaches my mind. My world collapses down to sensation—the heat of his hand, the drag of skin, the way my body opens for him without resistance.
All I manage is a broken sound.
He presses the heel of his palm to my clit, rubbing every time my hips move, setting me on fire.
"Fuck—yes," I gasp. "Oh god… that feels so good."
"I'm not even inside you," he says, voice raw now, "and look at you."
His words tip me closer, push me higher. Watching him watch me—seeing him stroke himself while I use his hand to undo myself—drags the pleasure sharp and fast.
We're right on the edge of each other.
Close enough to feel everything. Still not enough.
"Danny," I breathe, voice trembling. "I need more."
The need cracks open in me, almost a plea.
"Sweet Jesus," he groans.
"My pretty baby needs to be filled."
He holds my gaze. "Ride my fingers."
The challenge is quiet, intimate.
I move his hand to the bed, pausing just long enough for heat to flare through my chest—then I angle his fingers and lower myself onto them, slow, inch by inch, taking him in.
"Jesus, Rain," he groans.
"Your pussy feels so fucking good."
I roll my hips, open myself wider, letting him feel how easily I give.
Wetness slicks his palm, spills over his fingers.
I rock against him, every movement echoing, amplifying, until the tension is almost unbearable.
"You see it now?" I whisper.
"You see how I come alive under your touch?"
I hold his eyes as I speak, letting the words sink into my body.
"Feel how warm I am. How I cling to you… how I pulse around your fingers. How I leak all over your hand."
My voice is slow, deliberate, breathy.
"Do I look alive now?"
I slide another finger in, legs spread wide, taking him deeper, clenching hard as I sink down.
"Fuck," he breathes—and that's all the control he has left.
He thrusts the last finger in, thumb finding my clit, circling it again and again.
Precise. Merciless.
"Ah—Danny—" I collapse forward, dropping to all fours.
He doesn't slow.
He hits that spot over and over until everything inside me tightens, coils, then snaps.
His cock is right there.
I take the tip into my mouth slowly, hollowing my cheeks—and at the exact moment his fingers press deep again, everything breaks.
I come apart in his palm.
The sound tears out of me, loud and helpless, the vibration traveling straight through him.
He groans, curses once, and then he's coming—thick, hot, salty warmth filling my mouth.
I swallow him down, hungry, relentless, licking him clean until he finally pulls free.
He grips my hips and pushes me back onto the bed, coming down over me, weight heavy, grounding, breath ragged against my skin.
"You make me come alive," I whisper.
Then I kiss him—slow, deliberate, sealing it.
Like a promise.
So he never forgets—
That when something dark reaches for him,
I'll be there.
Hands steady.
Pulling him back into the light.
"I want you but I don't deserve you," I hear him murmur as everything finally softens and I drift.