The initial push was a revelation. The broad, flared head of Jax's cock, already slick with his own precum, parted Willow's swollen, sensitive folds with a slow, inexorable pressure. It wasn't a painful entry, but it was overwhelmingly, intensely full.
A deep, guttural moan was torn from her lips, a sound of pure, unadulterated bliss as her body was forced to accommodate his impossible girth.
Her inner walls, still fluttering and quivering from her devastating orgasm, stretched around him, a tight, silken sheath conforming to his shape.
He entered her with a deliberate, torturous slowness, sinking into her inch by agonizing inch. Willow's world narrowed to the sensation of being filled, of being possessed so completely.
She could feel every ridge, every vein on his massive shaft as it scraped against her sensitive inner walls.
It was a feeling of being claimed, of being marked from the inside out, and it was the most exquisite pleasure she had ever known.
