He pulled out.

All the way.

The withdrawal was slow and deliberate, the full length of his cock dragging back through her cunt in one long, continuous exit that left her walls clenching on air before he’d fully cleared her entrance.

Thalia’s hips chased it.

She would deny this later.

Her hips moved backward on pure reflex, following the cock she had just spent ten minutes calling her to stop using, and the small, humiliated sound she made when it wasn’t there anymore was barely audible.

Barely.

"Turn over."

"I am not—" She started.

He gripped her hip and turned her himself.

She landed on her back against the seat, blouse hanging open, both breasts falling sideways with the change in position, green hair fanned across the upholstery.

She looked up at him.

He looked down at her.

His cock was fully hard, wet from base to crown, glistening in the back seat light with the combined evidence of everything her body had been doing for the last twenty minutes.

She looked at it.

Looked at his face.

"You are absolutely out of your—"

He hooked both her ankles over his shoulders.

Her hips folded upward.

"’WAIT’—that’s too—’deep’ from this angle—I’m ’pregnant’—Cruxius—"

He drove in from above.

PAH!

Her back arched completely off the seat.

"AAANGHH~!! HIIEEK~!! ’TOO DEEP’~!!"

From this angle, with her hips raised and her legs folded over his shoulders, his cock pressed against her front wall and cervix simultaneously with every thrust, the head reaching places her body was still adjusting around, the pregnancy making everything fuller and more pressurised and more sensitive in ways that didn’t fully have words.

"I told you—" The words broke between thrusts. "I told you—AAHHH~!! HIIEEK~!!—the angle is—OUNGH~!!—too—’much’—"

PAH! PAH! PAH!

"NGH~!! AAANGHH~!! ’STOP GOING SO DEEP’~!!"

His hands pressed her folded thighs toward her chest, compressing her further, changing the angle to something that drove his cock against the exact spot he wanted with every stroke.

Her breasts flattened between her pressed thighs and her chest, both nipples pointing upward, both visibly hard, the full, heavy pregnancy weight of them pushed together in the narrow space.

’He is pressing directly against—’ ’Every thrust hits the same place and the baby is right there and I can feel the pressure from outside and inside at the same time and I am going to lose my mind completely.’

PAH! PAH! PAAAH!

"AAANGHH~!! HIIEEK~!! OUNGH~!! NGH~!!"

His jaw was set. His eyes were on her face.

Not her breasts. Not her cunt.

Her face.

Watching every expression move through it in sequence, the fury and the overload and the involuntary surrender that happened between one and the other.

She pressed both hands flat against the back seat above her head and pushed back.

As though the seat might offer resistance that his cock wasn’t going to.

It didn’t.

He pulled out again.

She felt the withdrawal this time as a specific, cold loss — the full length of him exiting her in one long drag.

And her cunt answered.

The squirt came without warning.

A hot, pressurised spray that launched from her entrance the moment he cleared it, hitting the back of the front seat in a wet arc and running down the upholstery in a clear, filthy stream.

She made a sound that had no dignity in it at all.

"AAAHH~!! ’WHAT’—"

The second pulse followed, slightly less forceful, soaking the seat beneath her thighs.

Her own hands flew down to cover herself on reflex.

Too late.

The evidence was on the front seat, on her thighs, on the back of her own hands.

"That has never—" She stared at the ceiling. "I don’t ’do’ that—"

"You do now."

His voice arrived from directly above her, flat and satisfied.

She pressed both hands over her face.

He grabbed her wrists.

Pulled both hands away from her face.

Moved them forward.

His cock — still fully hard, slick with her — pressed against her lips from above.

"Clean it."

"I will not—"

He pressed forward. 𝗳𝚛𝚎𝚎𝘄𝕖𝕓𝕟𝕠𝚟𝚎𝕝.𝗰𝕠𝐦

The cockhead pushed between her lips on a push she could have resisted harder if her body had been on her side about it.

It wasn’t.

Her mouth closed around him.

The taste was immediate and complete — her own cunt, her squirt, the accumulated wet of the last half hour all at once on her tongue — and she sucked it despite herself, tongue pressing flat against the underside vein the way her body had learned without being officially taught.

"Mmph~!!" "Nngh~!!" "Mhh~!!"

His hands in her hair. Not forcing the pace. Just present.

She worked the shaft with both hands, lips sealed, pulling the full length through her mouth in long, deliberate strokes while her own taste cleaned off his cock and transferred onto her tongue.

’I am licking my own squirt off his cock in the back seat of a car in a parking lot.’ ’I am doing this voluntarily.’ ’My hands are moving on their own.’

She sucked harder.

His grip tightened in her hair.

She felt him stiffen toward the edge.

She felt the specific pulse at the base that meant the next thirty seconds would be different.

She sucked.

He pulled back.

She chased him forward.

He held her head still.

"Not yet."

She looked up at him over the shaft.

Her expression said several things simultaneously, none of them polite.

He turned her.

The third position.

Face down again, but this time with her knees on the seat, her wrists still in the seatbelt, her hips at the highest point.

Her cunt was dripping visibly from behind, inner thighs soaked, the evidence of the squirt still running off the seat below her.

He looked at the configuration.

Then at the gap between her ass cheeks.

His thumb pressed against her anal.

"No." Flat. Immediate. "’No’. Not there. I just—it’s been a long night and I have had enough of—’Cruxius’—"

"What’s the punishment?"

The question arrived clean and quiet.

She blinked.

"What?"

"Whatever punishment you decide." He pressed slightly. "Name it."

Her thighs tightened.

"I—" She thought for half a second. "I will revoke your access to the building, the accounts, and your name from every—"

"Agreed."

A pause.

"I’m going to spank your ass first," he said.

"You are ’not’—"

PAH!

His open palm landed across her right ass cheek with a crack that rang in the small car and sent the full, thick flesh bouncing in a wide, rolling jiggle that took three seconds to fully settle.

"AAANGHH~!! HIIEEK~!!"

PAH! PAH!

Left cheek. Right cheek.

Both hands alternating, each slap sending the heavy flesh swinging sideways before the next impact met it coming back.

"OUNGH~!! NGH~!! ’STOP’—HIIEEK~!!"

Her ass turned pink from the first slap.

Red from the fourth.

Deep, blotched red from the seventh, the handprint shape visible for a full second before the heat of the next impact dissolved it.

She was crying.

Real tears, specific and small, running down her nose and off her chin into the seat fabric.

"I will ’actually’ kill you—" PAH! "AAANGHH~!!" "—I am not ’joking’—" PAH! PAH! "HIIEEK~!! OUNGH~!!"

He stopped.

Looked at the red, marked, heavy ass in front of him.

"Now," he said simply, "I’m going to gape this hole."