She tore her blouse away, the fabric catching on her curves before fluttering to the floor. Her bra, a delicate cage of black lace, unhooked with a flick of her fingers, freeing her full breasts, their rosy peaks hardening under the cool air. Liam's hands found them instantly, his rough palms kneading her sensitive flesh as she pressed herself against him, her hips grinding in a slow, deliberate rhythm. Their lips crashed together, her tongue invading his mouth with a hunger that spoke of pent-up pain and raw need. Her fingers, trembling with urgency, slid to his belt, unbuckling it with a metallic clink before yanking his trousers down. His boxers followed, revealing his thick, pulsing cock, already glistening at the tip. She sank to her knees, her breath hot against his skin as her tongue traced his length, starting with teasing licks before her mouth enveloped him, sucking with a ferocity that made his knees buckle. Liam groaned, his hands fisting her hair, stunned by the wild edge to her movements—perhaps a release of the torment she'd endured. His release came hard and fast, flooding her mouth with warm, salty cum, yet his cock stayed rigid, insatiable.
She climbed onto him, her slick pussy swallowing his length as she rode him with relentless abandon, her ass bouncing with each thrust. Liam's hand cracked against her flesh, the sharp sting drawing a moan from her lips as the room seemed to pulse with their heat. The ceiling dissolved, revealing a vast, starry sky, its twinkling indifference a stark contrast to their fervor. A wheelchair materialized by the door, its presence eerie but unnoticed as Liam's focus remained on her writhing body. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she clenched around him, her second orgasm ripping through her with a shuddering cry. Still, he didn't soften. Driven by some primal force, he flipped her onto her knees, her ass arched high as he slammed into her from behind, each thrust a violent claim. Her eyes shifted, pupils fading into a ghostly pale blue, her breaths ragged as she pushed back against him. The wheelchair loomed in his peripheral vision, a shadowy figure flickering into existence atop it. His climax built again, a tidal wave he couldn't stop, and as she matched his rhythm, slamming back into him, he erupted deep inside her, collapsing in a heap. She spun around, her body trembling before she, too, crumpled beside him, ass the room reverted back to what it originally was, no wheelchair, no figure no starry sky. Just the same old house she remembers.
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As they lay on the floor, bodies spent and chests rising and falling in quiet rhythm, Liam was the first to break the silence.
"How do you feel?" he asked, voice low, eyes still on the ceiling.
Melissa turned her head toward him, strands of hair falling over her face. "Lighter," she said. "It's strange… but I remember something. Something my mum once told me. She said, 'If a time ever comes where you have to make a choice—choose life. Always continue living.'"
Liam looked at her, quietly taking in her words. "Every parent would want their kid to believe that," he said. "I… I don't remember seeing your parents around. Not once. But whether or not I understand all this, I'm here."
A silence stretched between them—long, not awkward, just present. Then Liam's brow furrowed slightly. "There's something else," he said. "Since we left the station… I've been noticing things. Off things. Like—"
He paused mid-sentence. His eyes shifted toward the window. Shadows. Not the usual kind cast by streetlights or the sway of branches. These moved deliberately.
Instantly alert, Liam got up in a quick motion, his bare feet making no sound against the floor. He crept to the window, pulled the curtain just enough to peek through. His stomach dropped.
There were figures. Three? Maybe four. Walking steadily toward the house.
He turned sharply. "Melissa," he whispered, already pulling on his trousers. "Dress. Now."
She sat up in a daze, already reaching for her clothes. Liam barely had time to turn toward the door when it burst open with a loud crack against the wall.
Liam reacted first, stepping forward instinctively. "What do you want?" he asked, voice steady, though his muscles were already tensed.
The lead figure stepped ahead of the others. He was calm, too calm. His eyes scanned the room, then settled on Melissa.
"I'll make this easy for you," he said, his voice measured. "You're Liam, correct? And this..." —he tilted his head toward Melissa— "this is the chosen one."
Melissa flinched slightly at the words.
Liam leaned closer to her, whispering quickly, "Run."
Before she could protest or even process what he said, Liam lunged forward, aiming straight for the figure's chest.
But the man didn't move. He simply raised his hand in one fluid motion, palm forward—and Liam froze mid-air, body jerking to a stop like he'd hit an invisible wall.