Ross wasn’t just fucking her; he was utterly ravaging her. His movements were a relentless assault, a brutal rhythm that teetered on the edge of pain and pleasure, leaving her gasping for air.
Yet, he didn’t allow her body to grow accustomed to his tempo.
At unpredictable intervals, he would slow, teasing her by pulling almost completely out, leaving just the swollen tip of his cock poised at her entrance.
Gwen would barely have time to register the absence before he slammed back into her, forcing a choked cry from her lips every time.
His thrusts weren’t just hard—they were chaotic, unpredictable, and unrelenting.
At times, his hips moved with a blur of speed, each thrust so fast and deep that her body had no choice but to follow his rhythm, dancing to his erratic tempo.
The bed creaked beneath them, the sound of their bodies colliding filling the room with an obscene symphony.
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Gwen’s legs quivered, her toes curling involuntarily as wave after wave of sensation crashed over her.
Her body felt like it was on fire, her skin flushed and damp with sweat. Her nails clawed at the sheets, desperate for something to anchor her, but there was no escape.
Ross was everywhere—inside her, around her, dominating her completely.
Gwen’s mind reeled as her senses overloaded.
"No… I can’t…" she tried to convince herself, but her thoughts were a fragmented mess, drowned out by the pleasure Ross was forcing upon her.
Her moans grew louder, more guttural, as the relentless assault on her body pushed her higher and higher.
Her shame was drowned by the sheer intensity of the moment. She hated how her body responded, how it betrayed her with every clench and spasm around Ross’s cock.
Yet, no matter how much she fought it, the truth was undeniable: she was lost in the pleasure, her body and mind completely consumed.
Ross leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear as he growled, "It feels so good to be inside you, Gwen. You’re pussy is as hot as hell itself and it seems its gotten friendly with my cock already. Its hesitant in letting my cock go." Ross whispered. Every time he pulled out his cock, Gwen’s pussy seemed to cling to it. This was an epic sight only a big dick can ever hope to achieve.
His words sent a shiver down her spine, her body trembling as a fresh wave of heat coursed through her. She wanted to fight back, to deny him, but the sensations were too much.
His cock filled her so completely, stretching her in ways she’d never imagined possible. Each thrust seemed to hit deeper, harder, until she thought she might break apart entirely.
Eventually, Gwen reached a point where she could no longer think—only feel. The pleasure was too overwhelming, too consuming, wiping away everything else.
Her moans turned into cries of ecstasy, her voice hoarse from the constant onslaught.
And then, somewhere in the haze, she realized something that shook her to her core: she had forgotten about her husband.
The man she had vowed to love and cherish was a distant memory, overshadowed by the mind-numbing pleasure Ross was giving her.
In this moment, nothing else mattered—only Ross and the way he made her body come alive.
"So good!" Gwen’s thoughts dissolved as another climax hit her, harder than any before. Her body tensed, her back arching off the bed as she let out a scream of pure ecstasy.
Ross didn’t stop, his thrusts relentless as he pushed her higher and higher, prolonging her orgasm until she thought she might faint from the intensity.
By the time she came down, her body was limp, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. Ross didn’t give her long to recover, his movements slowing but never stopping.
His cock remained buried deep inside her, a constant reminder of his dominance.
"You’re my bitch now, Gwen. My own personal slut." Ross murmured, his voice low and possessive. "And I’m going to make sure you never forget it."
Ross repositioned Gwen effortlessly, placing her on top of him once again.
Her body sagged, clearly exhausted, and he allowed her a reprieve, knowing she was still entirely human and her stamina couldn’t match his.
For now.
He hadn’t claimed her fully yet and had yet to give her some useful physical gifts and immortality like what he did to his previous girls. That would of course happen the moment he would plant his seed deep into Gwen’s needy tight cunt.
"This will be your last time as a normal human," Ross thought, a wicked smile curling his lips. He decided to let her savor these final moments of frailty, the feeling of being fragile and powerless beneath him. She would never know it again after tonight.
***
Thirty minutes passed, her breathing steadying, her body recovering. Ross finally stirred, his voice low and teasing as he nudged her gently.
"Wake up, buttercup. It’s my turn to finish now," he murmured, a playful edge lacing his words. "And since I’m feeling generous, I’ll allow you a little illusion of propriety. Pretend I’m your husband if that makes you feel better."
Gwen blinked, groggy and confused by his words. Before she could process their meaning, Ross shifted her again, manipulating her as though she weighed nothing.
In the blink of an eye, she found herself still straddling him, but now facing away, her back pressed against his chest.
He guided her forward until her hands rested on his thighs, leaving her unable to see him directly. From this angle, all she could see were his legs bracketing her sexy frame.
Despite the position, there was no forgetting who was inside her. The difference between Ross and her husband was stark and undeniable.
The sheer size and thickness of Ross’s cock stretched her far beyond anything she’d ever experienced before.
Even as her mind tried to retreat, her body reacted instinctively, clenching around him as though trying to hold him in.