He watched her face—those sharp, fierce features gone soft and utterly broken. Full lips slack and drooling, dark eyes glassy and unfocused, thick brows pinched in raw disbelief and pleasure so intense it bordered on agony.
She was trying to process it, trying to breathe around the monstrous fullness splitting her open, her scar-bisected eyebrow twitching with every throb of his cock inside her.
He didn't move. Didn't thrust up. Just let her sit there, stuffed and shaking, letting her feel exactly how much she'd taken—and how much she still couldn't.
Then she started to move.
A slow, experimental roll of her hips at first—testing, gasping sharply as the thick, flared head dragged along her overstuffed walls on the way up, scraping every sensitive nerve. Her eyes rolled back instantly, lashes fluttering.
"F-fuck…"
