Mirea was still holding herself apart—two trembling fingers stretching her soft lips open, baring that glistening pink slit with almost desperate vulnerability.
The sight was obscene in contrast to her usual calm, self-contained grace. Now she was just... open. Offered. Trembling.
Vex's breath hitched hard. His cock throbbed in his grip as he lined up again, the flushed tip brushing against her wet entrance.
She was slick—dripping, heat rising from her skin in waves, her folds pulsing with nervous energy. Every inch of her seemed to scream not just want—but need.
This time, he didn't miss.
The swollen head pushed forward—slow, deliberate.
And it met resistance.
Soft, taut, trembling resistance.
The heat of her wrapped around just the crown, so tight it felt like a velvet vice. Her walls clung, flexing, trying to draw him deeper even as her body twitched in protest.
