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The first time König touched you was when he pulled your trembling body into his arms. Your legs were weak and no longer able to hold you up, so you fell into him and he caught you. You were covered in dirt and gore, some of it fresh, still trickling down your skin, other bits dried and matted into your clothes. Some of the blood was your own, some wasn't. At this point you didn’t care - all you cared about was the mountainous man standing in front of you, his arms hooked under yours as he pulled you free from your captor's embrace.
____
It had happened quickly, you weren’t quite sure exactly how it came to be that you were being restrained by a masked man with a glinting knife held to your throat. He pulled you backwards, further into the room while you watched your coworker- your friend- bleeding out on the floor by the door. The two of you had plans for that evening. After work, the pair of you were going to grab a bite to eat at the bistro down the street, then get your nails done. It was a soft ritual the two of you had started the month after you first started working here, and now your standing bi-wednesday plans were never going to happen again.
You had tried to pull yourself free when the man- the terrorist- first took hold of you. It didn’t matter. No matter how hard you had tried to claw at his forearm, or kick at his knees, you had little effect. He swore at you, then pressed the knife tighter against the delicate skin of your neck. Your mind went haywire at that point, thoughts rushing as you tried to figure out a plan of escape in panic. Maybe if you told him that there was a door down the hall that led to the stairwell, and from there he could head back to the ground floor and find the door to the alley. Bringing you along with him would be burdensome. The smart thing to do would be to let you go- or kill you.
You whimpered pathetically as you tried to build up the courage to do something. You didn’t want to die like this, having not tried anything at all. You squirmed in his grasp, but all he- the terrorist- did was press the knife further into your neck. The blade nicked skin this time, and you could feel warmth trickle down your clavicle.
All you felt that you could do at this point is try your best to quell your violent trembling, focusing on regulating your breath. Your eyes shut themselves tight. It had been a while since you prayed, but at this moment you did —to anything and anyone you could think of— for a saviour or heavenly intervention.
Suddenly, the knife repositioned itself against your neck, digging even deeper into the laceration. Against your back you felt the rumbling vibration as the terrorist spoke. “I swear to fuck I will kill her if you come closer.”
The pair of you shifted back a step.
Your eyes flew open to meet the terrifying visage of the answer to your prayers. A mountain of a man, so tall that he had to duck under the doorway approaches the pair of you. Clad in tactical gear and clearly built for war, he wasn’t police, but something more. Over his head he wore some sort of sack, black with eye holes cut into them and tear tracks bleached onto them. Any semblance of relief you should have felt at the sight of him was clouded by the fact that he was holding an assault rifle aimed straight at you.
The mountain was silent as he assessed the situation, stepping over your friend's corpse as he tread further into the room and closer to you and you assailant. You give up on trying to steady your breathing again, and let out a high pitched whine. Your eyes sought out the mountain’s, but you’re unable to see past the shadows cast by his mask. You hoped he saw how you pleaded for him.
Time seemed so still at this moment. You felt the terrorist shift his hold on you again, anticipating needing to slit your throat and make a run for it. Your eyes shut themselves out of instinct, in preparation. Your body lent further into the man, desperate to get further away from his blade. He shuddered against you, and you heard a grunt, and then a gurgle. You kept your eyes shut, even as you felt rough fabric grazing against your front, a presence looming in front of you, and the arm wrapped around your torso loosening.
Only once the blade clattered against the floor did you muster the courage to take a peek.
You felt him before you saw him, strong arms curling under your arms and pulling you in closer to him. You hadn’t realised until your face was pressed into his vest, that your legs were bowing, too weak to hold you up. His smell engulfed you; sweat, gunpowder and a faint tinge of fabric softener helped keep you grounded. In his arms, you could finally let go.
When the mountain man finally carried you outside, to the staging area where paramedics and police officers stood waiting, he had an arm hooked under your knees and the other supporting your back. He was steady, and each step he took felt certain of itself. You knew he would not drop you.
The first time you held König, your touch was delicate. Your fingers barely reached around to hold his hand steady as you traced your number neatly onto his skin, careful to make sure each digit was eligible. This time, the both of you were skin to skin, his fingers laid ever so still and light against your wrist as you held him. You ignored the fact that you were still shaking, and blamed it on the adrenaline coursing through your veins.
___
The foil of the emergency shock blanket was giving you major sensory overload, especially on a day where everything was already overwhelming. You had been led to a bench outside of your office building — a calm place to sit while EMTs, Police officers and press ran around and fussed. You were on full autopilot and in a daze, eyes darting from person to person as they neared you. Honestly speaking, you were barely paying them any mind, twisting and turning mid-conversation as you looked for The Mountain who had slipped out of sight once he set you down.
There’s a nurse who busied herself with cleaning and bandaging the cut on your neck. She shot glares as you shifted beneath her. You cleared your throat as you asked. “Did you see where the man who brought me out went?”
She looked like she hadn’t expected you to speak, she furrowed her brows in confusion before turning to look down the street.
“Think he went down there, love.” She responded with a nick of her head, apparently knowing exactly who it was you were talking about.
Once the nurse was done and had disappeared from your sight, you’re shaky as you get to your feet. You meandered down the street in the direction the nurse pointed out to you.
Spotting The Mountain was easy. He was in fact almost impossible to miss. He stood with his arms crossed speaking to a pair of men equally geared up as he was. The sun was beginning to set, and he was blocking out the light, casting deep shadows.
You wrapped the foil blanket tighter around your shoulders, and steeled yourself, reminding yourself to be courageous like he was.
When you walk up to them, you can tell The Mountain's friends were trying to gauge you. They must not see anything threatening, because they offer him a nod and turn to leave before you manage to even squeak out a “Hello.”
The Mountain's gaze and attention was now fully on you, and it was hard to quell the heat on your cheeks and the bashfulness that bubbled in your stomach.
He didn’t say hello back.
“I didn’t thank you.” You started.
“There is no need for thank yous.” The Mountain's voice rumbled, and you realise that it’s the first time you’ve heard his voice.
It’s not what you expected. Perhaps pitched a little higher than you’d thought, and you catch the lilt of an accent. Germanic, perhaps?
“But I want to thank you.” You insisted, bringing your hands forward to a clasp in front of you. You suddenly felt uncertain, silly for engaging.
Silence enveloped the two of you. He looked down at you, and you up at him as the quiet suffocated you. Your cheeks were burning hot now. In this moment, you realised that you cannot see any feature of his. Even his eyes were shrouded in the shadows cast by the sack over his head.
You broke.
“Thank you!” You rushed out, not able to keep up with whatever game this was. You casted your gaze down to your feet and frowned deeply when you spot specks of blood on your shoes. “I imagine this is just another day on the job for you, but I’m going to think about you for the rest of my life.”
He stayed silent.
“I don’t want to keep you fr-” You started,”
“What is your name?” The mountain asked, finally breaking his silence. You looked up at him in surprise, stunned and only able to offer him a shy smile and your name.
“What is yours?”
“König,” Your Mountain replied.
You felt adrenaline start to rush through your veins again, and eagerly forced the question out before you could overthink it.
“Can I buy you a drink, König?”
You couldn’t tell what he thought of your proposition, his mask again shrouding any semblance of reaction. König tilted his head, perhaps in consideration?
“I am leaving in a few hours,” He responded. You furrow your brows, not understanding what he meant. “Our base is outside of the country.”
He gestured around them, at him and his comrades.
You weren’t quick enough to hide how your smile drops in disappointment. “Oh… I see.”
There was a pang in your heart. You had an opportunity and now it was lost, this man was slipping through your fingers.
There was another moment of silence as the both of you stood, not sure how to continue forward.
“Do you have a pen?” You asked.
He paused before a large hand lowered to one of the pockets in his cargo pants. He unzipped it swiftly and procured a pen and extended it for you to take. You took the pen, and the ungloved hand that held it out for you.
He let out a small noise in surprise, and you’re delighted at how cute you find it. You found that his fingers were warm as you pulled it in closer to you. His fingers rested on your wrist and halfway down your forearm. You pulled the cap off with your teeth and got to work scribbling your number down on the back of his hand.
“Maybe when you’re back in town, you’ll let me know?” You told him with a smile on your face.
“Okay, Kleine.” He responded, and you could hear the growing smile and soft rumble of a laugh in his voice.
Your fingers lingered on his hand, nails grazing his palm lightly. When released, his arm fell loosely to his side.
You paid attention to the distinct longing to pick his hand up again. The hand of a man you didn’t know, whose face you had yet to see.
You offered the pen back to him, but his shrouded hood shook from side to side.
“You keep it, Kleine.” He rumbled.
At the police station, hours later, when urged to sign your witness statement, you took a closer look at the pen gifted to you by König — your mountain, and traced your finger over the KORTAC branding on the cap.
The second time König touched you was months later. His hands lingered at the small of your back. Fingertips barely grazed you, clearly unsure whether or not he could touch you. He treated you with care, like you were delicate, because you were. König was rough edges, gun powder, sweat, musk and generic fabric softener, whereas you were warmth, a fresh breeze, sunshine and strudel fresh from the oven.
___
König called you and told you he would be back in town for a couple days, waiting for some sort of KORTAC business to sort itself out. Honestly speaking, you didn’t care for the details. You knew you would never be a part of his world. PMCs, deployments and tactical operations we’re above you. All you cared for was that soon König would be back.
When he paused on the other side of the phone, unsure of what to say next, you took your chance to finally ask him again.
“Can I take you out for a drink, König?” you giggled.
Somehow you can feel his smile on the other side.
“Okay Kleine.”
You typically wouldn’t give a man you’ve barely had a proper conversation with your address. Maybe it’s dumb that you give König yours — but when you opened the door and saw him for time, you couldn’t care less.
It took you a few seconds to put two and two together; that the giant man out in your hall was in fact Your Mountain. Your saviour.
Your eyes scanned over his unmasked face and you felt your heart stutter. Despite the scars and lines — fine and not so fine. The crooked nose and eyes that darted from side to side as he took in his surroundings. He was attractive… handsome… and he holds up a bunch of tulips.
He stood in your entryway and filled out the space with his legs and shoulders. He fiddles around with his jeans (they have a normal amount of pockets) and pats down his button up. You made sure to ignore how broad the shirt made his chest look and instead focused on vasing your flowers and setting them aside.
Your favourite bar pub was a short 20 minute walk away, and it was more crowded than usual. A cheshire grin widened as you felt his large, ungloved palm on your back, warmth radiated from the point where it lingers at the small of your back.
You led him through the masses to a booth further inside. It wasn't until you both were sitting across from one another — a cocktail in your hand, and a beer in his — knees knocking under the table, that you realised that he was staring at you and that you could see it. His blue eyes were distinct, even in the dim lights.
“I’m so happy that I finally get the chance to thank you properly,” You confessed to him, voice breathy as you brought your straw to your lips so you can take a sip.
“You thank me with every heartbeat, Kleine.” He tilted his head to the side again, it reminded you of a puppy. His gaze wandered down to your neck, no longer bandaged. “When you keep your blood inside.”
You liked the lilt of his accent.
You brought your hand up, fingers gently prodded at the faint scar left by a knife so many months ago. It didn’t hurt anymore. Hell, you barely even thought about it anymore. Whenever you reflected on that day, your mind went to your friend, the carnage, the deep unrest your soul hadn’t yet been able to let go of, and König.
“You still called me though,” you offered him a wry smile, and watched as his eyes flickered back up to your lips. You felt your heart flutter again when he answered you with a smile of his own.
“Yes… I did.”
___
You didn’t let go of each other after that. His hands were pressed flat against your back when he led you back out of the bar, no longer uncertain if it was unwelcome. Once outside, when the evening air was cool around you, you wrapped your arm around one of his. Your fingers raced over the contours of his muscles, and the pair of you definitely picked up the pace on the walk back.
His hands idled on your hips as he took up post behind you. You fumbled with your keys, and you tried your best to slot them into your door and to keep your hands steady.
When you finally managed to get the door open, your fingers wrapped around his wrist and dragged him over the threshold after you. Your fingers slid down, moving to interlace themselves with his. As the door finally closed behind you, he leant down so your lips could finally slot against his in a sweet kiss.
This kiss, the first kiss, was short and chaste. Warm lips pressed into one another for only a moment before Your Mountain pulled away from you. You hadn’t noticed that your arms had somehow found their way up his arms and had wrapped themselves around his shoulders. You let them slide down again, and pressed your palms lightly into his forearms. When he looked at you, his blue eyes were darker, and you could hear him breathing. You felt how his chest rose and fell with each inhale and exhale.
König licked his lips, his eyes drifted down to yours, then back up to your eyes again. He was asking for permission. You offered a minute nod and it’s all he needed.
His kisses are insistent, hot and all consuming. He pulled your body in impossibly closer and lifted a hand to cradle your cheek. Reality swirled around you, and you basked in his all-consuming warmth. Your hands slid up his arms again, then down his chest. You pressed against his pecs, pushing him further into your apartment, towards your bedroom.
In the bedroom, you pushed him backwards onto your bed, and bit your lip as you watched him bounce and settle on your mattress. His gaze on you was hot, sharp and so blue. Predatory. If you waited too long, he would pounce on you.
You were quick to pull your top off, leaving you in a bra and your jeans. You tossed the fabric to the side and lifted to plant your knee on the bed. You crawled over to him. His hands, warm and so large, found their place on your waist. He hauled you in, closer to him, then flipped the pair of you over so that you were under him and he could settle between your legs.
Finally, his lips were on yours again. He snuck his tongue into your mouth after teasing the seam of your lips. He kissed you savagely and it made you feel like you knew him. He bit your lip gently, canine digging into the flesh of your bottom lip. You whined into his mouth, and he just ate it up, welcomed every noise you made, every gasp for breath you took. It felt good, addicting.
A hand pulled your hair to the side, and exposed your neck to him. König leaned down to where the raised skin of your scar was and pressed his lips to it. You hummed, hands drifting over his back. You left yourself open to his ministrations. Then he bit and sucked, leaving marks that bloomed like flowers on your skin. You felt like you were suffocating under him in the best way.
His hand brushed some of your hair out of your face so his can whisper into your skin.
“I want to make you cum.” His voice was so gravelly.
His hand slid down your body, under the waist of your jeans and cupped your pussy. Your panties were wet, sticking to your skin and he could feel it. He mouth nipped at your cheeks and his chest rumbled. Soft and primal.
“Scheiße, please let me Kleine.” He murmured, resting his forehead against your temple.
Your chest heaved and you were unable to answer, because the man was rubbing mindless circles on your clit, over your panties.
These gentle circles ignited the match, sparked the flame of arousal that had been bubbling in your belly.
You rolled your hips and groaned openly, oh so eager for more of his touch. Your hands carded into his hair as you gave him a loose smile. “I’m the one supposed to be thanking you.”
He chuckled, nuzzling into your hair and then pressed a kiss to the pressure point under your earlobe.
“Then you will give me this, yes?”
He lathed your neck in messy kisses, fingers sped up against your clothed clit and all you could do was keen.
You sunk into the sheets, into the feeling of him. “Yes, König. Please.”
He grins against your skin, victorious.
He pulled off of you finally, and you fought back the whine as his smell dissipated. His hands are on the buttons of your jeans. Fumbling with them in his eagerness as he unbuttoned, unzipped and then freed you from the restrictive denim. He teared them off your legs and your brain short circuited when you felt how cool the air was against your cunt.
Your brain was hazed over and his touch was burning through your clothes but it was nothing compared to the way his breath felt on your clothed pussy. When he finally found his place between your legs, he discovered just how wet you had gotten for him, embarrassingly so. When König slipped his fingers into the sides of your panties to peel them away, you felt like you could almost hear the wetness. He hooked two strong fingers from the top and started to pull them down, then off your feet.
He looked so vast and immense when he sat back on his haunches, taking in the sight of you laying back against your pillows in just your bra.
“Take your shirt off… please.” Your voice was so deep with want, your eagerness dripped off each word and you were more than pleased with yourself when you watched as he acquiesced to your wishes.
Hands made quick work of each button revealing more and more of his chest to you, dusted in hair that you wanted to run your hands through.
The shit eating grin on his face grew as he shrugs the shirt off and you in turn opened your legs for him, beckoning him forward.
“You need me, Kleine?”
“I do.”
“What do you say?” The lilt in his voice was teasing, and SO frustrating.
“Please…”
“Please who?” He crawled back over to you, hands sliding up your legs and hooking under your knees.
“Please König.” You whined. He pushed your knees up, and you gasped when they met your chest and your leaky pussy was exposed to him.
“Not quite Kleine.” He rumbled, content with not moving an inch, happy enough to hold you exposed for him.
You squirmed, and whined, desperate for something, anything.
“Repeat after me, lieb. Please… Sir.” His eyes bored into yours, and you couldn’t help but feel hypnotised as you swallowed.
“Please sir.”
“Hmmm Good girl. Now, let me hear how thankful you are.” He kissed and licked over your lips when he finally tasted you. His moans sounded obscene, joined with your high-pitched keening as he got to work.
König’s tongue was skilled. It worked fast, flicking rapidly over your needy clit, up and down. His tongue was constant and wet with his spit and your slick. It was so filthy the way his tongue on your sweet spot made your pussy just gush.
He sucked gently whenever his tongue and jaw needed a break, little pulses and slurping suction stimulated you, before he went right back to lapping at your sensitive little bud. At a few points he dipped down to lick at your entrance, and placed wet kisses to your abused clit. His tongue licked lightly before his lips wrapped around it. You jolted, but his strong arms held you down.
You’re braced on your arms and looking down at him, watching him make you come apart at the seams.
Your head and eyes rolled back, and you made the effort to spread your legs even farther, opening yourself as much as you could for him.
“Fuck, I’m already close,” you cried out, high pitched and airy.
You brought a hand down to brush some of his hair out of his face, and saw König smile a little, smug as he puffed out a soft laugh. His breath is hot on you. His fingers took over, swiping over your seam, spreading your juices and his spit.
“You want to cum for me, Kleine?” he purred against your cunt. The sight of him was too much.
Your brows were pinched together in pleasure and you nodded eagerly
“Please don’t stop, sir” you whispered.
His eyes closed as he drowned in you. He pressed his face up against your mons as he licked your clit from an angle that was so precise and so perfect that your legs started to shake. The hand you have in his hair tightened and you pulled him into place, keeping him close as you mewled nonsense.
“Gonna cum, König oh my god-” Your lips fell open and your eyes squeezed shut.
Right when you were on the crest of pleasure, so good it hurt, he replaced his tongue with two of his fingers so he could watch you as you fell apart for him. He saw the way you were about to protest at the loss of his mouth but your body tensed and your back arched off of the bench. His fingers toyed with you just right to make the rush hit you before you could even think to complain.
“Scheiße, look at you Kleine. Pretty.” he murmured.
His eyes were trained on your pussy, the way it clenched and contracted. He spread your lips as wide as he could so he could have a front row view of your cunt pulsing around nothing, and dripping. His fingers slowed on your clit when you started to come down
Slow was still mind bogglingly overwhelming though, especially when you had just cum. It’s not long before your hands were reaching between your legs and gripping at his wrist.
“Too much,” you cried out.
He cooed, gently pulled at your inner lips and opened up your puffy little cunt.
“Your pussy is still pulsing Lieb.” he sounded proud, voice deep and drunk on lust. “Did I make you cum that hard?”
You were still trying to catch your breath as you looked down your body at him. He looked so effortlessly confident with a cocky smile plastered on his face. You rolled your eyes at him, but couldn't contain the wide smile on your face.
König was crawling back over you, ducking his head down, his lips grazed your skin. He hiked one of your legs up around his waist, when your lips met once again, messy with excess tongue, spit and the taste of you.
You wrapped your arms around his back, and he shivered when you ran your nails over his shoulder blades, Your fingertips felt goosebumps make a short appearance.
When he rolled his hips into your pussy, you gasped. He inhaled it, breathing in your pleasure. It made him throb, hard and hot against you.
“König, I want to feel you inside me.” You exhaled as you pressed your soaked pussy into his clothed cock.
He groaned into the kiss he pressed into your lips. He rutted harder into you, bringing a hand down between your bodies so he could free his cock from his jeans. He pulled it out, gripping the base of his cock so that he can rub the tip against your clit.
He groaned when his cockhead felt how wet you were with your slick. He tsked, scolded you playfully.
“So messy, mein Liebling.” He was smiling when he took your bottom lip between his teeth and bit into it lightly, and swirled his tip against your clit. You squirmed in his grasp, keening for more.
He pushed the head in before hissing and pulling back out.
He repeated a few times, teasing himself with your cunt. He gave you time to adjust while he spat into his hand, slicked himself up, rubbed himself against your pussy. You gasped when his fingers grazed your clit. He gasped in turn when you spread your legs wider for him. You were so sweet and eager for him.
Finally, He hooked the leg around waist over his shoulder, braced some of his weight on your thigh,and hovered over you. His lips brushed yours lightly and you could feel him hiss against them when he sunk his hard cock into you.
“So wet…” his voice rasped in pleasure, and exertion when he fucked into you with shallow thrusts. His movements were slow, but before long you were full to the brim and it was like you could feel him in your throat.
König continues on, he fucked you slow, with long, steady thrusts.
“More,” you moaned, one of your hands had found themselves playing with your nipple under your bra. The other hand floated down to graze over his tensed abdomen.
He gripped the hand you have on his tummy and pushed it down so that it was at your pussy.
“Play with yourself Leibling, I want to watch.” His voice was commanding, rough.
You followed his instructions dutifully and brought your fingers down to your when he pistoned into you. You gathered your slick around his cock then rubbed your fingers over your clit. You started with tiny circles, slow like his thrusts. It felt so good, good enough to stoke the feeling of simmering in your belly.
Your pussy tightened, squeezing around König. You made him groan into your ear.
You felt lightheaded. Your fingers started to work faster. Your Soft, airy moans met his grunts of exertion and his steady rumbling.
Before long, your legs started to close on their own. The pleasure was becoming too much for you. Your breath started to come out short. Your chest rose and fell. Your brows furrowed with concentration as you worked your poor clit to get there.
You let the most pitiful whine. You wanted nothing more than to cum with König inside you.
He’s grabbed your hand again, just as you feel yourself approaching the summit again, but this time he kept it in his grip, pulling it off your sore clit. “Not yet, Liebe.
He drew his cock out until just his swollen tip was still nestled inside before slamming back in one swift movement.
It took your breath away, how overwhelming full you felt. Tears welled in your eyes. His hand dragged down your body until his thumb sneaked in between your folds, rubbing at your clit.
You buckled, and your legs spread wider, your hands coming up to your free knee and pulling it back.
you whined and gripped at his forearm. His muscles were taut, holding himself up, Your nails dug into his flesh and he moaned, head rolling back, hips snapping forward faster like he was starting to lose control.
The tip of his cock kissed places inside of you that make your head feel fuzzy. his girth stretched you out so well. You could feel every ridge of him against your pussy’s sensitive walls.
“Wait-” you gasped, whiny and panicked. “Slow down König. I’m gonna cum-”
“Don’t Kleine, hold it in.” he warned, moving the leg slung over his shoulder back to his waist. He slowed his thrusts a little, but he felt like being a bully. He brings his fingers back to your clit, rubbing like he wants you to cum, he knows you’re going to, despite his warnings.
“Please,” you whimpered, both hands came down to grip at his wrist, “you need to stop or I’m gonna-” you turn your head, bury your face into his shoulder, hiding from him.
Your body was so tense with the effort to listen. You wanted to be good for him, but straining against the high that’s quickly cornering you was fraying you at the edges.
“Look at me, Liebling,” he breathed into your ear. He sounded so turned on and it was egging you on.
When you did look at him, he looked amused.
“What are you going to do?”
God, he sounded so smug.
Your eyes were watery, as you tried so hard to keep the rush at bay. The sight of him, his commanding body, the condescending smirk that matched his teasing tone, it did you in. Your walls clenched around his cock and your clit was so sensitive and his touch was so good, you had no chance.
“Gonna cum-” you cried out, leg shaking against the bed and around his waist. Your cunt contracted around him. Your walls pulsed so good around him as you creamed all over his cock.
Your high pitched moans colored the air.
König sighed, like this is exactly what he wanted, like forcing you into wringing your tight pussy around him was the most gratifying thing in the universe.
He’s trying to keep from cumming himself, the clench of your hot, soaking pussy was almost too much for him, but he focused on you. The way that you’re bashfully hiding from him while simultaneously working your cunt over him makes something spark in his brain.
His thrusts started to slow gradually, as did his fingers so that he doesn’t overstimulate you, wanting to only make you feel good for now.
He tsked again, once you came down, body still trembling in his hold with pleasurable tremors. His cock was still throbbing inside of your pussy.
“So naughty, Kleine.”
You giggled deliriously, soaking it — him— all in as you nodded, rolling your head so your empty eyes could look up into his blue ones again. “Yeah”
König started his thrusting again. His hips moved in a comfortable and steady motion. You can feel every inch of him move against you and it was unbearable.
“You do not look sorry”
“You made me, it’s your fault,” you gurgled.
You could tell by the way his hips started to stutter that he’s getting close to the end of his rope. His hands came up to grip and play with your tits, visual stimulation to get him there. His hips have lost their rhythm.
His eyes are closed, and his brows are furrowed. The more lost in you that he gets, the more you want his cum. His grunts and groans that turned to needy whines made you keen, and his hands that trembled while they rubbed over your sensitive nipples brought chills to your body.
“ Liebe,” he moaned, “I’m going to cum.”
He looks down his body to where his cock disappeared into your pussy. He backed up a smidge, readying himself to pull out and finish on you. He brought himself as close to the edge as he can with your cunt.
As his hand moved from your tits to his cock, you acted quickly. You wrapped your legs around his waist before he’s able to fully pull himself out from your gummy walls. His tip was still snug inside. You locked your legs behind him and pull him forward.
König howled, his cock sliding right back in, quick and all the way to the hilt. He was close before that. This one final stoke into your wet cunt he had made his home was all he needed to tip over the precipice, to spill inside of you.
His mouth fell open in a choked gasp and his face scrunched in pleasure. You moaned with him as you felt the first hot shot of hot cum painting the walls of your pussy. He milked himself inside of you, thrusting lightly as he rode the wave. It is just about the sexiest thing you’d ever seen in your life.
When he finally seemed to collect himself enough to function, he shook his head at you with a smile playing on his lips. He settled over you once more, resting on his forearms, his cock still buried in your pussy.
He nipped at your lips, and his fingers played with your hair. You wrapped your arms around his neck, and nuzzled your face into neck, now beaded with his sweat.
“That feels like an adequate thank you,” you hummed. You could feel him rumble above you.