Sex Time Heavy The door slammed open, the force of it rattling the hinges. He stood there—cold, unyielding, a storm given form. His gaze locked onto me, dark and possessive, and I felt my pulse spike, my body already betraying me, wet and aching before he even touched me. He moved like a predator, swift and merciless. One moment I was standing, the next I was airborne, tossed onto the bed with a force that knocked the breath from my lungs. His hands were rough, tearing at my jeans, my thong—ripped away without hesitation. My shirt followed, yanked over my head, leaving me bare, my nipples hard, my pussy slick with need. I didn’t have time to think before I was sitting up, my fingers fumbling with his belt, his zipper, shoving his pants down, stripping him just as brutally as he’d stripped me. He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. With a growl, he was on me, his weight pressing me into the mattress as he forced himself inside me in one brutal thrust. His balls slapped against my ass with a sharp *crack*, and I cried out—not in pain, but in shock, in pleasure so intense it bordered on agony. He didn’t ease in. He didn’t care. He fucked me like he owned me, like I was nothing more than a toy built for his use, his cock pistoning in and out with punishing force. The wet, obscene sounds of our bodies colliding filled the room, his balls slapping against me with every thrust, my moans growing louder, more desperate. Just as I teetered on the edge, he stopped. His breath was hot against my ear as he leaned in, his voice a low, dangerous purr. *"Braves Mädchen… I’m going to fill you so full of my cum you won’t be able to walk."* Then he slammed back into me, and I shattered, my orgasm ripping through me like a wildfire. He followed, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside me, his cum spilling out around his shaft, dripping down my thighs when he finally pulled out with a sharp, vicious jerk. *"Clean it,"* he commanded, his voice ice and fire all at once. I obeyed, my lips parting as he shoved his cock into my mouth, forcing it down my throat until I gagged, my tongue working frantically to lick him clean. Before I could catch my breath, he flipped me onto my stomach, his hand coming down hard on my ass with a *crack* that left my skin stinging, marked by his palm. Then he was inside me again, his cock driving deep, his balls slapping against me with every brutal thrust. He fisted my hair, yanking my head back, his hips snapping against me as he fucked me harder, faster, until he came again, his cum flooding me, dripping down my thighs when he finally pulled out. Again and again, he took me—rough, relentless, until my legs trembled, until I could barely stand. *"Get up,"* he ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument. *"Walk."* I obeyed, my steps unsteady, my body weak, his cum still leaking from me with every movement. He caught me before I could fall, his grip bruising as he shoved me against the wall, his cock already hard again as he took me from behind, then from the front, fucking me until I couldn’t take anymore, until the world went black. When I woke, I was sprawled naked on the bed, his cum still seeping from me, a constant reminder of what he’d done—of what I’d let him do. And God help me, I wanted more.