09 Garden of Zaun pt. 2🌶️🌶️🌶️

DomSevika :)

"Fuck--" My voice like light, filters through the cracks in the walls.  Sevika's hand is already on my thigh, her rough fingers brushing over the sensitive skin, teasing, testing, as if daring me to beg for more. I can barely think as she leans in, her lips ghosting over my neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

"Oh my god," I gasp, my voice trembling, but she silences me with her large palm clamped firmly over my mouth.

"Shh," she whispers, her breath hot against my ear. "Don't want them hearing you scream, do we?"

Her voice is low and velvety, dripping with amusement. It's maddening. The fire in my belly coils tighter with every stroke of her fingers. She's slow, deliberate, sliding one thick finger inside me and curling it just right, drawing a moan from deep in my throat that she muffles with her hand.

Her other arm is braced beside my head, pinning me to the mattress as she starts to move, adding another finger, stretching me in ways that send shivers down my spine. Each thrust is measured, precise, but it's not enough—I want more, need more. I squirm beneath her, desperate for her to lose control, to give me everything she has.

"You're so wet for me," Sevika growls, her voice rough with desire. "Fuck, you hear that? That's your greedy cunt begging for more."

Her words make me whimper, and I press back against her hand, arching my hips to meet every thrust. The slick sound of her fingers pumping into me fills the room, obscene and intoxicating, but it only makes me crave her more. I want to drown in her, to lose myself in the way she moves, the way she touches me like she owns me.

Her thumb finds my clit, circling it with maddening precision, and my vision blurs. "Sev," I pant, the pressure building higher, threatening to break me. "Oh god, I'm—"

"You're not going anywhere," she cuts me off, pulling me back against her. "Stay still, Buttercup. You take what I give you."

Her grip on my hip tightens as she drives her fingers deeper, harder, her pace relentless. My body trembles beneath her, the pleasure almost too much, too overwhelming. I feel like I'm going to shatter, and she knows it—she always knows it. She knows just how to unravel me.

 Sevika groans, her lips brushing the shell of my ear, her voice thick with satisfaction. "Take it. Love this sloppy, fuckin' pussy. It's mine."

I cry out, the sound muffled by her hand. 

She chuckles darkly, the sound vibrating through me as she nips at my shoulder. "That's right," she murmurs. "Nobody else gets to touch you like this. Just me."

Her fingers slam into me again, and I sob against her hand, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until I'm trembling, teetering on the edge. I try to pull away, inching forward, overwhelmed by the intensity, but Sevika doesn't let me go.

"Where do you think you're going, huh?" she snarls, yanking me back onto her hand. "You think you can run from me?"

"N-no," I stutter, tears pricking at the corners of my eyes from the overwhelming pleasure. "I—"

"Good girl," she breathes, thrusting deeper. "Take it. All of it. That's it, princess."

I'm trembling, so close I can't even think straight, and my voice cracks as I beg. "Sevika, I'm gonna cum—please, please let me—"

She slows her pace, thrusting deeper but more languidly, the stretch of her fingers deliciously torturous. Her mouth is suddenly at my ear, her voice a sultry growl. "Then tell me who owns this cunt," she demands. "Tell me who's inside you right now."

"You," I sob, my voice breaking. "You, Sevika! Only you—please, I can't—"

Her grin is practically audible as she picks up her pace again, slamming her fingers into me with brutal precision. "Good girl," she purrs, her voice thick with satisfaction. "Go ahead, baby. Cum for me. Soak my fuckin' hand."

Her words are my undoing. The tension snaps, and I cry out beneath her palm as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over me. My body convulses, tightening around her fingers as I fall apart, the pleasure blinding and all-consuming. Sevika doesn't stop, milking every last shudder from me, her grin evident in the way her fingers keep moving, slower now but no less intense.

When I finally come down, my body trembling and spent, she pulls her hand away from my mouth, and I gasp for air, collapsing against the bed. She leans over me, kissing the side of my neck, her voice soft and smug. "Good girl," she whispers, brushing her lips against my temple.

I turn my head to meet her gaze, my breath still ragged. "You're ridiculous," I murmur, the corners of my mouth twitching in amusement.

Her lips curl into a smirk as she leans down, kissing me deeply, thoroughly, before pulling back just enough to breathe against my mouth. "And you," she says, her voice like silk, "are perfect."

I close my eyes, letting her words wash over me, and for once, I don't care about anything else. Just her. Just this.

Sevika tangles her arm in my hair, inching closer to me. The air thick with the scent of sweat and satisfaction. The sheets are twisted around us, half-forgotten, as Sevika's arm rests heavily across my waist. My body hums with the aftershocks of pleasure, every nerve alight, and yet, I crave more.

Sevika shifts beside me, her head propped on one hand, the other tracing lazy patterns over my bare skin. Her fingertips skim along the curve of my hip, trailing up my side, slow and reverent, like she's memorizing me. Each touch is tender, sending warmth blooming under my skin. I shiver, not from cold, but from the intimacy of it all.

Her lips brush the curve of my shoulder, a feather-light kiss that makes me sigh, my eyes fluttering closed. She lingers there, pressing more kisses along my collarbone, the slope of my neck, until I tilt my head, granting her access. The softness of her mouth is a stark contrast to the way she touched me earlier—rough and commanding. Now, she's gentle, almost worshipful, like she's savoring every inch of me.

"You're beautiful," she murmurs against my skin, her voice low and husky.

I can't help but smile, my heart fluttering at the sincerity in her tone. "I think you've mentioned that before," I tease, though my voice is breathless.

She chuckles softly, the sound vibrating against my neck, and I feel her smile against my skin. "Maybe, but it's worth repeating."

I turn toward her, shifting until I'm on my side, facing her fully. My hand finds her face, tracing the sharp lines of her jaw, the softness of her lips, the scar that cuts across her cheek. She watches me, her gaze intense, eyes dark with something I can't quite name but feel all the same. It makes my chest ache in the best way.

"Sevika," I whisper, my thumb brushing over her bottom lip.

Her eyes soften at the sound of her name, and she leans in, capturing my lips in a slow, lingering kiss. It's gentle at first, her lips moving against mine with an unhurried tenderness, as if we have all the time in the world. But then it deepens, her hand sliding up my back to cradle the nape of my neck, pulling me closer.

I melt into her, my body pressing against hers, the warmth of her skin searing into mine. My hand drifts down, tracing the curve of her shoulder, the hard muscle beneath, before trailing lower. I let my fingers explore, memorizing the strength of her, the way her body feels under my touch. Her breath hitches when I reach her chest, my fingers splaying over the scarred expanse, feeling the rapid thrum of her heartbeat beneath my palm.

Her lips part against mine, and I take the opportunity to deepen the kiss, my tongue slipping past her lips, tasting her, savoring her. She groans into my mouth, the sound low and rough, and it sends a shiver down my spine. I feel her hand on my waist, pulling me even closer, until there's no space between us, only heat and need and the steady rhythm of our hearts beating in sync.

I break the kiss, gasping for air, but I don't pull away. Instead, I press my forehead against hers, our breaths mingling, my fingers still tracing lazy circles over her skin. "This," I whisper, my voice trembling with emotion. "This is different."

Her hand finds mine, lacing our fingers together, and she squeezes gently. "It is," she agrees, her voice rough with feeling. "I never thought I'd have this."

I lift my head, meeting her gaze, my thumb brushing over her knuckles. "You have me."

Her eyes darken, a flicker of something vulnerable crossing her face before she pulls me into another kiss—deeper this time, hungrier. She rolls us over, her body pressing me into the mattress, her weight grounding me. I wrap my arms around her, my hands roaming over her broad back, tracing the curve of her spine, the hard lines of her muscles.

She kisses me like I'm the only thing that matters, her lips trailing down my jaw, my neck, until she's pressing open-mouthed kisses along the swell of my breast. I gasp, my back arching into her, and she smiles against my skin, her hands splaying over my waist, holding me steady.

I tangle my fingers in her short hair, tugging gently until she lifts her head, and I capture her lips again, pouring everything I feel into the kiss—desire, need, affection. She groans, her hand sliding down to my thigh, pulling my leg around her waist, and I press closer, needing to feel every inch of her.

Her hand slips between us, her fingers gliding over my skin, teasing, coaxing, until I'm trembling beneath her touch. She's gentle now, slow and deliberate, drawing out every sigh, every moan, and it's almost too much, the tenderness of it all.