Outside the room, voices drifted through the hallway in hushed tones.
"They've been at it for hours," one of the girls whispered, her voice carrying both awe and a little bit of envy.
"Hours?" another replied, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. "I heard her screaming his name at least six times. Maybe more."
A third woman, the one with cat ears and a swishing tail, snorted. "About damn time."
"Shh!" The first girl hissed, glancing nervously down the hall. "Madam Imelda will hear you."
As if summoned by the mention of her name, Imelda appeared at the end of the corridor, her heels clicking sharply against the polished floor, and the women straightened, their gossip seizing immediately.
Imelda's eyes swept over them with cool authority. "Don't you all have work to do?" she said with a calm voice that attracted respect and fear from her girls. "Or would you prefer to stand here like statues while our clients go unsatisfied?"
The women scattered quickly, murmuring apologies as they hurried back to their rooms. Imelda watched them go, then turned her gaze toward the closed door at the end of the hall.
And slow grin spread across her face. "That's my girl," she murmured, before turning and walking away.
***
Inside the room, Kurt and Sam were far from finished.
Sam lay beneath him, her body trembling, her dark blue hair spread across the pillow in a messy halo. Her skin was flushed pink from her cheeks down to her chest, and her breasts rose and fell rapidly with each labored breath.
Kurt's hands gripped her hips firmly, pulling her closer as he thrust into her again. The sound of flesh meeting flesh filled the room, wet and rhythmic, and Sam's moans had become a constant stream of broken, desperate sounds.
"Ahh~! Kurt—mmn~! I can't—"
Kurt leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep kiss, swallowing her protests. His tongue slid against hers, and Sam whimpered into his mouth as her hands clutched at his shoulders like she was holding on for dear life.
He shifted his angle, hooking both her legs over his shoulders, and the change sent him deeper than before.
Sam's eyes went wide, her back arching sharply off the bed, and she came with a scream that was muffled only by Kurt's mouth on hers.
Her walls clenched around him violently, pulsing in waves that nearly dragged him over the edge with her. But Kurt held on, gritting his teeth, determined to make her fall apart at least one more time.
When the spasms finally subsided, Sam collapsed back against the bed, gasping for air. Her chest heaved, her breasts bouncing with each breath, and tears streaked down her flushed cheeks.
"Kurt... please..." she whimpered with a soft, tired voice. "I can't... I can't take anymore..."
Kurt kissed her forehead gently, his hand brushing sweat-dampened hair away from her face. "One more, love," he murmured. "Just one more."
Sam shook her head weakly, but when Kurt began to move again, slow and deep, her protests dissolved into moans.
Her hands slid down his back, nails digging in, and she bit down on her lower lip so hard Kurt thought she might draw blood.
He picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming harder, faster, and Sam's voice rose in pitch until she was practically sobbing with pleasure.
"Kurt—! I'm—ahh~! I'm gonna—!"
She came again, harder than before, her entire body convulsing as her walls squeezed him so tightly it felt like she was trying to milk him dry. Kurt groaned, his hips stuttering, and then he was there too.
He buried himself deep and came with a guttural groan, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself inside her for the second time that night.
The heat of it flooded her, thick and overwhelming, and Sam's eyes rolled back as she felt every throb, every pulse, every drop filling her completely.
"Mmn~! Kurt—!"
Her voice broke, and she clung to him desperately, her body trembling violently as aftershocks rolled through her in waves.
Meanwhile, Kurt stayed buried inside her, his forehead pressed against hers, both of them breathing hard.
When he finally pulled out, a rush of warmth followed. His cum spilled out of her in a seemingly never ending thick stream, coating her thighs and staining the already ruined sheets.
Sam's legs twitched, her body too spent to even close them, and she lay there trembling, her chest rising and falling rapidly as his seed kept flowing out of her.
With a heavy thud, Kurt collapsed beside her, his arm draped across his face while he tried to catch his breath. "Bloody hell," he panted, his voice rough.
Sam didn't respond immediately. She lay there, staring up at the ceiling with glassy, unfocused eyes, her body still twitching with involuntary spasms. Her arms were limp at her sides, and she looked utterly wrecked, cum still pouring from her.
After a long moment, she managed to lift one shaky hand and place it over her face. "I... I can't move," she whispered.
Kurt turned his head to look at her, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "That bad, huh?"
Sam's cheeks flushed even deeper, and she let out a weak, breathless laugh. "You're... you're terrible."
"And you still suck at insults," Kurt said, reaching over to brush his thumb across her swollen lips. "But I wouldn't mind doing this again sometime."
Sam bit her lip, her eyes peeking out from behind her hand. "Was looking forward to seeing your guild... but I... I don't think I can walk tomorrow."
"That one is definitely on me," Kurt admitted, scratching the back of his neck like a guilty person. "But worth it, yeah?"
Sam was silent for a moment, then she nodded slowly, her hand dropping to her chest. "Yeah," she whispered. "Worth it."
They lay there in comfortable silence, the only sound, their gradually slowing breaths. Eventually, Kurt sat up, running a hand through his messy hair, and reached for his trousers.
Sam watched him through half-lidded eyes, her body still trembling slightly. "Where are you going?"
"Need a smoke," Kurt said, pulling on his boxers and then his trousers. "And I should probably let Imelda know you're still alive."
Sam's face turned red again, and she buried her face in the pillow with a muffled groan. "Don't say it like that..."
Kurt chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple. "Rest up, love. You've earned it."
***
Kurt stepped out into the hallway, closing the door gently behind him. He ran a hand through his hair, still damp with sweat, and pulled a cigarette from his coat pocket.
He was halfway through lighting it when Imelda appeared at the end of the hall, her arms crossed and a knowing smirk on her lips.
"You really went to town," she said, her tone light but straight to the point.
Kurt exhaled smoke slowly, avoiding her gaze. "She's fine. Just... tired."
Imelda's smirk widened. "I'm sure she is."
Kurt took another drag, his eyes fixed on the far wall. "Look, if you're going to give me a bloody lecture—"
"I'm not," Imelda interrupted, her tone softening. She stepped closer, her expression serious now. "But I need you to promise me something."
Kurt finally looked at her. "Yeah?"
"Take care of her," Imelda said quietly. "When you leave for your guild. She's stronger than she knows, but she's also... fragile. More than she lets on. And her family... well that's for her to tell you."
Kurt held her gaze for a long moment, then nodded. "Crowley?"
Imelda studied him, then smiled faintly. "Looks like you're not a total fool after all."
"I try to make an effort," Kurt exhaled slowly, watching as Imelda disappeared down the hall. He took one look at his cigarette, returned it back to its pack, and leaned back with a sigh.
"Fragile," he muttered under his breath. "Yeah. That tracks."
He pushed off the wall, rolling his shoulders as if shaking something loose, and started down the hall before fishing out his pack, paused, then slipped it back into his pocket.