Diana’s tongue dragged slowly over the heavy, sensitive ridge of his shaft, collecting every slick trace of the supermodel’s arousal and his own spent release.

No hesitation or gag. Her eyes were closed tightly, her hands resting flat against the hardwood floor to steady her trembling frame.

Ryan looked down at the dark, ruined mess of her blowout. The sheer black lace of her bodysuit clung to her sweat-soaked skin, rising and falling with her shallow, jagged breaths. 𝑓𝘳𝑒𝑒𝓌𝘦𝘣𝘯ℴ𝑣𝘦𝑙.𝘤𝑜𝑚

He let her finish. He let her swallow her own pride until there was absolutely nothing left of the corporate armor she wore like skin.

When the last drop was cleaned, Ryan’s hand moved.

He tangled his fingers into the thick hair at the back of her head and pulled her upward.

Diana gasped, stumbling to her feet. Her heels slipped against the damp hardwood, her knees weak and shaking violently.

She grabbed his forearm to keep from collapsing.

Her lips were swollen and shiny, her chest heaving against the sheer lace. She looked up at him with wide, bloodshot eyes, completely stripped of any remaining defiance.

"You seem to understand now," Ryan murmured, his voice a low, gravelly scrape that vibrated against the quiet hum of the kitchen appliances. "Good."

He didn’t give her a second to brace herself. He gripped her by the hips and spun her around, slamming her front-first into the edge of the marble island.

Diana let out a sharp, breathless cry as the cold stone bit into her stomach.

She was bent at a severe angle, her upper body draped across the counter, right next to where Zara was still sprawled.

The sheer black lace stretched dangerously tight across the heavy, plush curve of her ass, fully displaying the soaking wet stain marking her core.

Zara propped herself up on her elbows. The supermodel’s bare skin was flushed a deep, beautiful crimson, her dark hair a wild curtain over her shoulders.

She looked at Diana’s face, which was pressed against the cold marble just inches from her own hand.

"Look at her, Zara," Ryan commanded, stepping into the space between Diana’s trembling legs.

He gripped the fragile lace at the crotch of the venture capitalist’s bodysuit and tore it to the side with a brutal, unapologetic rip.

Diana whimpered at the sound of the tearing fabric, her hands gripping the edge of the counter.

"She’s usually such a controlling woman," Ryan continued, his voice dark and relentless. He dragged the broad, heavy head of his cock straight up the slick, dripping cleft of Diana’s ass, painting her with her own heavy arousal. "She tells billionaires what to do with their money. And right now, she’s terrified I’m not going to fuck her hard enough."

Zara’s dark eyes flared with a lethal, venomous heat.

The feral competition in her blood surged, mixing with a dark, voyeuristic thrill.

She reached out, her delicate, manicured fingers wrapping ruthlessly into the tangled mess of Diana’s hair.

Diana gasped, her head jerking up as Zara forced the older woman to look at her.

"Is that true, Diana?" Zara purred, her velvet voice dripping with absolute malice. "Are you begging for it?"

"Yes," Diana sobbed, the word tearing out of her throat. She couldn’t hide it. The agonizing, empty ache between her legs was suffocating her. "Please, Ryan. Just do it."

Ryan didn’t hesitate. He locked his hands onto Diana’s hips, anchoring her firmly against the stone, and drove forward.

He breached her tight, slick entrance in one massive, devastating thrust, burying himself to the absolute hilt.

A raw, guttural scream ripped from Diana’s lips.

He started moving.

He pulled back, exposing the thick, slick length of his shaft, and slammed back into her with bone-rattling force.

The wet, heavy slap of his pelvis hitting Diana’s bare thighs echoed violently through the kitchen. The marble island groaned under the shifting, brutal weight.

Ryan grunted, his breathing turning ragged as he picked up the pace.

He hammered into her with relentless, mechanical precision. Diana’s body jolted with every bruising impact, her spine bowing sharply against the stone.

She was impossibly tight, the mature, gripping heat of her walls milking his cock with a frantic, desperate suction that threatened to shatter his control instantly.

Above the counter, the scene was pure, unfiltered depravity. Zara’s hands were fisted in Diana’s hair, holding her face locked in place.

Ryan reached around, his broad hand sweeping over Diana’s stomach to find the swollen, soaking bundle of nerves hidden between her thighs.

He pressed his thumb down hard, trapping her clit against the pelvic bone, and ground his hand in a vicious, tight circle while he continued to pound into her from behind.

Her head tossed side to side, her eyes rolling back beneath her fluttering eyelids.

"Fuck—Ryan—oh my god," Diana babbled, entirely delirious, her fingers clawing frantically at the smooth marble surface. The friction was blinding. "I can’t—it’s too deep—please—"

"You’re doing fine," Ryan snarled, his hips a blur of violent, snapping motion. He leaned his weight forward, crushing her chest flat against the stone. "Richard would be proud."

The psychological strike hit her simultaneously with the overwhelming physical friction.

The shame, the terror, the absolute, filthy reality of her submission acted like a match to dry kindling.

Diana shattered.

Her entire skeleton locked rigid. A high, piercing wail tore from her lungs, echoing off the high ceilings.

Her core clamped down on his shaft with terrifying, crushing force, spasming so violently she nearly drove him over the edge.

Her thighs shook uncontrollably, her knees buckling against the hardwood, leaving Ryan holding her entire weight by her hips.

Zara watched the venture capitalist fall apart, a dark, devastating smile curving her swollen lips.

The supermodel reached out, tracing a single finger down the sweat-dampened slope of Diana’s spine, reveling in the absolute collapse of the woman’s empire.

Ryan gritted his teeth, his jaw locking tight as he fought the intense, milking pressure of Diana’s climax.

He kept fucking her straight through the agonizingly tight contractions, drawing the orgasm out until she was weeping mindlessly against the stone, completely drained of every ounce of resistance.

When he finally slowed his pace, easing his hips back into a deep, grinding rhythm, the kitchen was silent leaving only the heavy drum of rain against the windows and the ragged, broken sound of Diana’s breathing.