Then he just held me—arms locked around my waist, cock still buried deep, softening slowly inside me. My head fell back against his shoulder—body limp, completely spent.
He stayed like that for a long minute, breathing slow and steady against my neck. I thought maybe it was over. Maybe he'd finally let me rest.
But then he spoke, voice low and rough in my ear.
"We're not done yet."
Before I could process the words, he moved.
His grip shifted—strong hands sliding to my hips—and in one smooth motion he lifted me off his lap, turned me around, and pushed me forward onto my hands and knees on the narrow space between the crates. My palms slapped against the wooden floor of the carriage. My knees braced wide. Ass up, back arched, face close to the rough boards.
The position was sudden, vulnerable—my pants still bunched around my thighs, shirt rucked up to my shoulders.
I gasped—sharp and startled.
"D-Dravic—!"
He didn't answer with words.
He knelt behind me, one hand pressing between my shoulder blades to keep my chest low, the other gripping my hip to hold me steady. Then he lined up again—cock already hardening fast—and pushed back in.
No warning. No slow easing.
The head breached me in one firm thrust, sliding deep on the first stroke.
"Ughk—!"
Pain flared bright—sharp, burning stretch that ripped a choked cry from my throat. My walls clamped down hard, still sore and sensitive from everything before, but he didn't stop. He sank in all the way until his hips met my ass, then started moving—slow at first, long drags out and hard pushes back in.
Every thrust rocked me forward on my hands and knees. The carriage jolted with the road at the same time, making each stroke feel deeper, rougher, more intense.
"Ahh—! Too much— hurts—!"
I bit my lip hard, trying to muffle the sounds, but they kept spilling out—high, broken, desperate.
"Ngh… ahh… please…"
He leaned over me—chest pressing to my back—his breath hot against my ear as he kept that steady, punishing rhythm.
"You're still so tight," he rasped. "Even after that… fuck, Renji…"
His pace quickened—short, deep snaps now—each one slamming right into that spot. Pain blurred into heat again, pleasure building fast despite the ache.
I couldn't hold it.
"Ahh—! I'm—!"
But he beat me to it.
"Nnngh—!"
He slammed in deep one last time—body locking tight—and came hard inside me. Thick, hot pulses flooded me again, spilling deep until it leaked out around his base, warm and slick down my thighs. His groan was low and ragged against my shoulder, hips jerking with each spurt.
"Ahh… fuck… take it…"
The rush of heat, the way he throbbed and pulsed inside me, finally tipped me over.
"Nnngh—! Coming—!"
My cock pulsed untouched—spilling weakly across the carriage floor in thin spurts. My hole clenched hard around him—fluttering wildly—milking every last drop as pleasure crashed through me in exhausted waves.
We shook together—breathing hard, moaning softly—until the last tremors faded.
Dravic didn't pull out.
Instead he sat back—lifting me with him again—until I was facing him, straddling his lap once more. He grabbed my thighs—spreading them wide—and hooked them over his hips, opening me completely.
His arms wrapped around me—tight, possessive—pulling me flush against his chest. His mouth found my chest—lips closing around one nipple, sucking hard while his tongue flicked over it.
"Nn… ahh…!"
I cried out—voice cracking—body arching into him. The new angle drove him even deeper, pressing right against that sore spot again.
He kept moving—slow rolls at first, then deeper, harder—hips snapping up into me while he sucked and bit lightly at my nipples, switching from one to the other.
The carriage kept rocking—each bump slamming him deeper, making every thrust feel sharper, more intense.
I couldn't breathe right—moans turning into high, broken sobs.
"Ahh…! it hurts… too much…!"
But he didn't stop.
He hugged me tighter—mouth moving to my neck now, sucking hard on the skin while his hips kept driving up—deep, relentless.
The pressure built fast—too fast.
He came first again—body locking, hips slamming up one last time.
"Nnngh— Renji—!"
Thick pulses flooded me—hot, deep—spilling until it leaked out around him.
The rush pushed me over right after.
"Ahh—! Coming—!"
My cock pulsed weakly between us—spilling thin spurts across his stomach. My hole clenched hard around him—fluttering, squeezing—milking him through both our releases.
We moaned together—raw, ragged—his groan muffled against my neck, my cries high and trembling.
"Ahh… Dravic…!"
"Nnngh… yes… fuck…"
He kept rocking—slow, shallow—until everything faded into heavy, exhausted panting.
Then he just held me—arms locked around my waist, cock still buried deep, softening slowly inside me. My head fell against his shoulder—body limp, completely spent.
He kissed my temple—soft, quiet.
"Rest now," he whispered.
I couldn't answer—just panted weakly, eyes fluttering shut as the carriage kept rocking us together.
The road stretched on.
And Dravic never let me go.
After the last tremors faded, Dravic didn't pull out right away.
He just held me there—arms still locked around my waist, cock buried deep inside me, softening slowly but staying exactly where it was. My head rested back against his shoulder, body limp and trembling, every breath shaky. The carriage kept rocking gently with the road, each small jolt nudging him deeper, stirring the mess inside until I could feel fresh warmth leaking out around his base, trickling down my thighs.
I stared at the crates in front of us, eyes unfocused, mind spinning in slow, quiet circles.
Even though we keep doing it again and again… no matter how many times, my body never gets used to it.
The thought came heavy, honest, like it had been waiting there the whole ride.
I clenched my fists on my lap, cheeks heating as the memories flooded back:
It's cruel. It's exhausting. I thought after the third night… fourth… fifth… I'd get used to it. That the pain would dull, the initial burn would fade into easy pleasure like the stories make it sound.
But no.
It still hurts every damn time he enters me—sharp, burning ache that makes me cry out and tense up, even as my body betrays me, opening for him like it's starving. And every time I end up coming apart under him, shaking and sobbing his name, because the spell makes sure I feel every inch like it's brand new.
Is this what they want? For me to stay this way—vulnerable, sensitive, always struggling? Always overwhelmed?
Dravic shifted slightly behind me—chin resting on my shoulder, breath warm against my ear.