Both palms pressing her thighs outward and down toward the seat, opening her fully, changing the angle so his cock drove in at the specific downward press that hit her front wall and cervix simultaneously with each thrust.

Her back arched.

Her hands tightened in his hair.

’He is pressing against where the embryo is.’ ’He is pressing directly against where he already planted his seed and the seed took root and he knows it and he is doing this deliberately and I am letting him and I cannot find the part of me that wants to stop.’

PAH! PAH! PAH!

"Mmph~!! Aahhh~!! Hngh~!!"

The tears came again.

Down her temples. Into her hairline. Off her ears.

She didn’t stop kissing him.

Her cunt was soaking him.

The wet was audible — a soft, continuous, filthy sound with every stroke, her body producing an excess of slick that ran from her entrance down the seat beneath her, pooling in the fabric, the combined evidence of the morning and whatever was happening now mixing together on the back seat upholstery of a car in a corporate parking lot at ten in the morning.

’He is fucking me like I am his.’ ’He is fucking me like he has always been going to and was simply waiting for the correct moment.’ ’His cock fits exactly like it belongs here and I have spent years trying to forget that.’

PAH! PAH! PAAAH!

"Mmph~!! Oungh~!! NGH~!!"

She broke from his mouth.

Her head fell back.

Eyes open, pointed at the car roof, tear tracks running down both cheeks, mascara gone entirely, green hair spread wild across the back seat.

"Aahhh~!! Hngh~!! ’Too deep’~!!"

He drove in.

Harder.

The gentleness of the entry was gone now, replaced with something more honest — the deep, sustained rhythm of a man who has wanted something for longer than he has admitted and is no longer moderating it.

PAH! PAH! PAH! PAH!

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

Her breasts swung with every thrust, the full, heavy, pregnancy-swollen weight of them moving upward on each impact and falling back down, both nipples stiff and pointing, the flesh bouncing with a wet sound each time the fall met the rise of the next thrust.

His hands came up to her chest.

Not to hold them still.

To feel the movement.

His palms pressed flat against both swinging breasts and rode the bounce, the flesh deforming between his fingers with each impact and reforming on the release.

"HIIEEK~!! OUNGH~!! AAAHH~!!"

’He is churning everything I have.’ ’His cock is pressing against the space inside me where his child is growing and I can feel both at the same time, the cock from below and the embryo from within, both his, both present, both of them inhabiting the same body that I apparently lost ownership of sometime last night.’

PAH! PAH! PAAAH!

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

Her back came fully off the seat.

Both shoulder blades lifting, spine arching, her whole body trying to curl around the sensation of him and failing because there was too much of it to contain.

His hips pressed her back down.

Flat. His weight pinning her shoulders to the upholstery while he drove in from above.

"MMMPH~!! NGH~!! HIIEEK~!!"

She grabbed his face.

Both hands on his jaw, pulling him back down to her, and she kissed him again mid-thrust with the complete disregard for logistics that only a body at full saturation manages.

He kissed her back.

Tongue flat. Deep. His hips not stopping, not slowing, maintaining the rhythm through the kiss so that her moans fed directly into his mouth between strokes.

PAH! PAH! PAH!

"Mmph~!! Aahhh~!! Hnn~!! Oungh~!!"

Her thighs wrapped around his hips.

Not to slow him.

To pull him closer.

Her ankles locking at the small of his back, heels pressing inward, her whole body conspiring against every position she had taken in the last hour.

She hit the edge without announcement.

The orgasm arrived not as a wave but as a full-body detonation — every muscle below her waist contracting at once, her walls clamping around his cock in a rhythmic, pulsing clench so tight that his next thrust required force to seat through.

Her eyes rolled.

White at the top. Irises disappearing upward.

Her tongue pressed between her lips and stayed there, the same involuntary reflex as before, her body venting sensation through the mouth.

"AAANGHH~!! ’CRUXIUS’~!! HIIEEK~!! OUNGH~!! NGH~!!"

Her cunt clenched and released and clenched again in long, rolling pulses, the specific milking grip of her walls working his cock through her entire orgasm without him stopping.

Because he didn’t stop.

PAH! PAH! PAAAH! 𝒇𝓻𝓮𝓮𝙬𝙚𝒃𝒏𝓸𝙫𝒆𝙡.𝓬𝓸𝒎

He drove through every pulse.

Through every clench.

Her walls trying to slow him, her body convulsing around him, and his hips maintaining the exact same rhythm through all of it with the same flat-eyed composure he applied to everything.

He pulled her tongue.

His fingers closing around the tip of it between his lips and tugging forward gently, pulling it further out between her parted lips while her eyes were still rolled and her whole body was still shaking in the tail end of the orgasm.

She felt it.

Even through the shaking.

The specific pull of her tongue between his teeth registering as a filthy, distinct sensation layered over everything else.

"Mmph~!! Nngh~!!"

He released it.

Pressed his lips flat against hers.

And came.

His hips drove to the absolute base.

Seated fully, his cock pressing against her cervix from the outside, and the load released directly against it — thick, hot, continuous, each pulse pressing the seed forward through her entrance and against the wall of her womb.

She felt every single one.

From the first to the last.

Her walls clenching milkily around him through his entire finish, her body taking all of it with the same thorough, instinctive grip, her cervix wet and warm against his tip.

He groaned.

The first real sound he had made all morning.

Low. Deep. Dragged out of him from somewhere genuine.

He pulled back slightly.

Looked down between them.

At where they were joined.

The white evidence of his finish already mixed with her own — visible at the base of his cock, around her entrance, running down the inside of her thigh in a slow, warm trickle.

He looked at it for one second.

"You really do have," he said, still slightly breathless, his voice carrying the texture of a man who has arrived at an honest statement, "a tight pussy, Thalia."