The scent of sizzling burgers mingled with chlorine and sunblock. Laughter echoed across the backyard, blending with the splash of bodies diving into the pool and the low thrum of classic rock pulsing from the speakers on the deck. It was the kind of summer day that begged to be remembered—perfectly warm, deliciously careless.

Lucy sat sideways on Eric’s lap at the edge of a lounge chair, her smooth thigh draped over his, her yellow bikini clinging damp and tight to her curves. It was the kind of bikini designed to grab attention—string-tied, low-cut, made for sun and stares. Her skin still shimmered from her last dip in the pool, golden and dewy, a touch too hot from the sun but just right when cooled by his hands.

Eric laughed with his buddies, a beer balanced in one hand, his free arm lazily wrapped around Lucy’s waist. Across the patio, Ray—Eric’s father—stood by the grill, flipping burgers while talking with Lucy’s dad. He wore aviators, a sleeveless tee, and a smirk that hadn’t left his face since Lucy arrived. That smirk made her stomach twist and tighten in ways she hadn’t been able to ignore since that night.

She tried to focus on the conversation around her—something about beer pong and who had lost their trunks last summer—but her mind betrayed her. Again.

Flash.

Her leaning over the kitchen stool, tasting herself and the mess she made.

Flash.

The kitchen, dim and silent except for the low hum of the refrigerator.

The sound of skin slapping.

Flash.

Her hands braced on the cool granite counter, Ray behind her, his voice a low, gruff whisper telling her to keep quiet, that Eric was just upstairs.

“Shut the fuck up and take this cock in that drenched pussy. This is what you wanted.”

Flash.

“Such a tight slut for me, taking this cock like a needy girl.”

His fingers sinking into her hips, the sound of her gasp swallowed by his mouth crashing into hers.

Lucy crossed her legs tighter in Eric’s lap, shifting her weight, heart beating faster. She smiled at something one of her friends said, but she could barely hear it over the memory of Ray’s breath in her ear.

You’re so wrong for this, he’d murmured, his hands demanding her body to give him more.

A shiver crawled up her spine, despite the heat.

Across the yard, Ray glanced up from the grill. Their eyes met.

Only for a second.

But it was enough.

The corner of his mouth lifted—subtle, deliberate. Her breath caught in her throat. God, it was sick. Filthy. Unforgivable.

And she wanted it all over again.

Lucy’s legs tensed, thighs squeezing reflexively around Eric’s lap. His fingertips idly traced along the side tie of her bikini bottoms, brushing the dip of her hip bone. He laughed at some joke his friend made, but his touch—slow, soothing—stayed on her skin.

She inhaled sharply, lips parting just a little.

It wasn’t the sun making her dizzy.

Across the pool, Ray still had his attention fixed on the grill. But Lucy knew he was watching. She could feel it—the weight of his gaze, the heat of it. Like a brand against her already flushed skin. When his eyes slid toward her again, she bit her lip, hard. A silent plea for control. For sanity.

Eric leaned in close and murmured against her ear, warm breath tickling her neck, “Meet me upstairs in five. I want you.” His voice was tipsy, lazy. But wanting.

Lucy nodded, her voice gone. She needed this. Needed the release. Needed Eric to quiet the storm Ray had stirred in her. Just one orgasm, just one reminder that she wasn’t the kind of girl who—

She stood up slowly, brushing the water from her thighs, trying not to look at Ray as she disappeared inside.

The bedroom was dim and cool, the hum of the AC soothing. Eric followed close behind, kicking the door shut, his mouth already on her neck.

“You looked so sexy today,” he whispered, tugging at her bikini bottom ties. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you all afternoon.”

He kissed her deeply, his tongue seeking hers, slow and eager. He was a great kisser—his lips soft, his mouth gentle, practiced. He always tasted like mint and beer and sunshine. It should be enough.

Her bottoms slipped to the floor and Eric groaned, cupping her ass as he pressed her against the wall. “God, Lucy…”

She kissed him back harder, trying to lose herself in it, grinding against him as his hands explored her. He was so sweet. Always was. Gentle, reverent.

Too gentle.

Too reverent.

He touched her like she was something precious.

Ray had touched her like she was something wicked.

She moaned, but the sound was born more from frustration than pleasure. She wanted more. Rougher. Deeper. She needed to feel it.

Eric’s lips trailed down her neck, but her mind had already wandered—flashing to Ray’s hands, Ray’s growl, Ray’s command.

No. No. Focus.

She clutched Eric’s hair, trying to ground herself. This was her boyfriend. This was safe. This was right.

So why did every nerve still ache for the man downstairs?

Eric moved with that familiar rhythm—tender, slow, doting. Lucy clung to him, wrapped around him, trying to stay present. His forehead pressed to hers, his breathing quickening. “You feel so good, baby,” he whispered, hips rocking steadily.

She nodded, gasped a soft moan, but inside, she was already counting seconds.

He lasted a whole five minutes before he shuddered and gasped against her neck, his weight pressing down with a satisfied groan. “Fuck… I love you, Lucy.”

She smiled, kissed his cheek. “I love you too.”

And she did. In her own way. Safe love. Sweet love. The kind of love you tell your parents about.

But her body… her body screamed for something else entirely.

Eric kissed her forehead and rolled off with a content sigh, already half-drifting into post-orgasm bliss. “Gonna grab another beer,” he mumbled. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” she said softly, rolling to her side. “Think I’ll nap a bit. The sun and beer got to me.”

He smiled as he pulled his shorts back on. “You only had one,” he teased, then winked and headed back downstairs.

She hadn’t had any.

The second the door clicked shut, Lucy’s breath hitched. Her skin burned. Not from sun. Not from exertion. From denial.

She slipped out of the sheets, peeled off the top Eric never even removed, and let her hands trail over her body—her hips, her breasts, her stomach—like she was reclaiming something that wasn’t his to touch so softly.

Her fingers slid between her thighs, and she moaned quietly, eyes fluttering shut. Her thumb circled her throbbing clit as she worked two fingers inside her needy pussy. She moaned. Desperately.

Ray’s voice returned instantly.

Look at you. Dripping for me in your boyfriend’s dad’s house. Such a wanton whore.

Her breath caught.

You wanted it the second I grabbed your throat. Don’t lie to yourself.

Her fingers moved faster, her free hand squeezing her breast, nails grazing her skin. Her thighs trembled. She slapped her aching clit, needing something  harder. More punishing.

You’re my dirty little secret now. Mine.

She bit her lip, hard enough to sting, to stop herself from moaning out loud. Her body tightened—heat building, the shame just making it hotter. She could still feel his beard against her inner thighs, the pressure of his rough grip pinning her down, the way he made her beg.

She gasped, back arching. Closer.

“Fuck, Ray. Fuck me.”

Closer.

But right before the wave crashed—

The bedroom door creaked.

Lucy froze.

Her heart pounded in her throat as she yanked the sheets back over her naked body, breath heavy, skin flushed. Her core begging. Tears welled in her eyes at being so close again.

Footsteps. Then silence.

The door opened slowly.

Lucy’s breath caught in her throat, hands frozen beneath the sheet. Her entire body burned—cheeks flushed, chest rising and falling in rapid, shallow breaths.

Then she saw him.

Ray.

He stepped inside and shut the door behind him with a deliberate click. The silence that followed was deafening.

His sunglasses were gone. His eyes—dark, commanding—traveled over her body, still glistening with sweat and need, the sheet doing little to hide her curves, the tension between her thighs. Her fingers still twitched under the cover, aching for friction, release. Embarrassment bloomed in her chest, but it was quickly overpowered by something else.

Ray took a step closer.

“Don’t stop,” he said quietly.

Lucy’s lips parted, caught between guilt and need. “Ray…”

“I said,” his voice dropped an octave, gravel laced with heat, “don’t stop. Show me. Show me how badly he neglects you.”

A sharp, desperate sound caught in her throat. Her fingers moved again, slowly, just under the sheet.

Ray stepped closer, his gaze glued to the movement beneath the fabric. “That’s it. Just like that. You were already touching yourself, weren’t you? Couldn’t even fake satisfaction, could you?”

She moaned—soft, aching—as she stroked herself. Her hips moved gently against her palm, thighs tightening. Her legs spread under the sheets.

“Goddamn,” Ray murmured. “So wet. You’re soaked, aren’t you? Been burning for me since the second you sat on his lap. I bet you even thought about me as my son was emptying his load in that sweet cunt.”

Lucy whimpered. Her other hand tugged the sheet down slightly, exposing her stomach, her chest—rising and falling fast. The sheet falls off her chest exposing her tight nipples and full breasts.

“Let me hear it,” he said. “Let me hear those pretty sounds he never gets from you. Let me hear you beg for a real man to stuff your pussy.”

Her fingers moved faster. She bit her lip, struggling not to cry out.

“You’re thinking about the kitchen, aren’t you?” Ray’s voice was a growl now, low and hungry. “The way I bent you over the counter, told you to shut the fuck up before you woke him. The way you listened. Because you liked it.”

“I shouldn’t,” Lucy gasped, head thrown back, her voice breaking.

“But you are.” He stepped to the edge of the bed now, watching her unravel like a man savoring his favorite sin. “That’s what makes it so goddamn good, isn’t it? You’re his, but you belong to me when you fall apart like this.”

Her thighs began to shake. Her breath hitched.

Ray leaned in, just enough to whisper, “Come for me, Lucy. Let him have your heart. I’ll ruin your body.”

And she did.

It crashed through her—hot and raw and messy—as her back arched, her cry smothered against her hand, her body trembling under his stare. The sheet falls down her body, her shame tangled in pleasure so intense it left her dizzy. She cried out.

She opened her eyes slowly.

Ray was still watching.

Smirking.

Ray’s gaze darkened as Lucy’s breathing slowed, her body still trembling in the aftershocks of release.

Without a word, he reached down and ripped the sheet the rest of the way off her, exposing her fully to the room—and to him. She gasped, instinctively curling her legs, arms crossing her chest, but Ray only growled low in his throat.

“Don’t hide from me,” he snapped. “You weren’t fucking shy two minutes ago when you were toying with that pussy in front of me.”

His eyes roamed over every inch of her—flushed skin, damp thighs, the mess between them. “Goddamn,” he muttered, jaw tight. “You were made for sin, weren’t you?”

Lucy’s eyes flicked up to his face, wide and uncertain. She tried to arrange her expression into something that looked like shame, but he saw through it. There it was—just beneath the flush of embarrassment—a gleam. Hunger. Pride in the way he looked at her. Power in the way she made him lose control.

Ray stepped closer, the bulge in his shorts straining, obvious, heavy. “Take it off,” he ordered, his voice thick. “All of it.”

She sat up slowly, fingers trembling as she reached for the hem of his shirt. Slid it up over his abs, chest, shoulders. He let her. Watched her. Then her hands moved to his belt. She hesitated for half a second, but he didn’t say a word—just stared down at her with that same ravenous focus.

When the belt clinked open and she dragged his shorts down his thighs, his cock sprang free—hard, heavy, aching. Beautiful.

She swallowed, her mouth already watering. Her pussy aching with the memory of what it felt like to have that cock deep inside her.

Ray chuckled low in his throat. “Yeah. That pretty little mouth knows what to do, doesn’t it?”

He ran a hand through her hair, brushing it off her face with surprising gentleness. “On your knees, slutty girl.”

Lucy sank down to the carpet, heart pounding, guilt screaming in one ear while lust roared in the other. Her knees touched the floor and Ray stepped forward, guiding her chin up with two fingers. Ray slaps the side of her cheek lightly.

“Get your mouth ready, sweetheart,” he said, voice like gravel and smoke. “You’re about to remind me my son doesn’t deserve a girl like you.”

Then he slid himself across her lips, and Lucy opened wide, eyes fluttering shut as she took him in—tongue eager, throat relaxing—already falling again, headfirst into the chaos she couldn’t stop craving. Lucy’s lips parted, and Ray didn’t wait. He pushed into her mouth with a grunt, one hand fisting in her hair, the other curling tight around the base of himself as he fed her more.

“Open wider,” he muttered, jaw tight. “You can take it.”

She did. Her eyes watered slightly, but she didn’t pull back.

“Yeah,” he growled, guiding her head back and forth now, setting a rougher rhythm. “That’s it.”

He looked down at her—naked, flushed, on her knees, her mouth full of him—and something feral lit behind his eyes.

“Fucking perfect like this.”

She gagged slightly as he pushed deeper, but the sound only made him groan, hips jerking forward again. He didn’t slow. He didn’t ask.

“You come up here all sweet,” he muttered, voice like gravel, “but I know what you are. You need this. Mouth stretched. Used.”

He yanked her hair back, just enough to see her face, slick and flushed.

“Look at you. Dripping for me, even now.” His thumb dragged across her cheek, catching spit, then pressed against her bottom lip. “You want to be ruined.”

Lucy whimpered around him, thighs clenching.

Ray chuckled, cold and low.

“You finish with him, and five minutes later you’re on your knees for me,” he said, pushing back into her mouth. “Pathetic.”

His voice dropped lower, rougher. “And you love it.”

He didn’t wait for a response.

He just held her head in place and used her mouth the way he wanted.

Because that’s what she’d come up here for.

And she knew it. Ray’s grip in Lucy’s hair tightened, and his hips snapped forward harder now—more demanding. The wet sounds echoed in the quiet room, broken only by her muffled gag and his low, ragged breath.

Her eyes watered instantly, tears spilling down her flushed cheeks. Mascara streaked black trails as she blinked up at him, mouth still stretched wide, taking everything he gave.

“Fuck, look at you,” he growled. “A goddamn mess. Mascara running, spit everywhere, and still begging for more.”

Her body trembled.

“This is what you needed, huh? Not soft hands. Not ‘I love yous.’ Just this. Used.”

She whimpered, throat tight, but she didn’t pull away.

Ray snarled. “I ought to keep you like this. On your knees every time I walk in the room.”

He was close—his breath sharp, his muscles tensed—but then he stopped.

He yanked out of her mouth with a wet sound, her lips glossy, chin slick, and before she could recover he grabbed her by the waist and tossed her face-down onto the bed.

“Up,” he snapped. “Arch that back.”

Lucy obeyed instinctively, the shift immediate, like muscle memory. She braced herself on shaky arms, back bowed, ass high in the air, legs slightly parted. She even dared to wiggle her hips. Her pussy glistening.

Ray stood behind her, breathing hard, admiring the sight.

Then—crack—his palm landed hard on her ass.

She gasped.

Another slap followed, sharp and fast, making her jerk.

“You think you can make a man lose his mind and not get punished?” he muttered, rubbing the fresh sting with his thumb. “You knew exactly what you were doing walking around in that little bikini.”

He leaned over her, his voice a low growl against her ear. “You want to be used? I’ll give you what that boy downstairs never could.”

His hand slid down her back, slow. Possessive.

“This body doesn’t lie, Lucy,” he whispered. “And it belongs to me now.”

Ray stood behind her, taking in the sight—Lucy’s back arched just like he told her, skin warm and flushed from the spanks, legs parted, waiting.

He ran a hand over her ass, fingers trailing down slowly, deliberately. She flinched, but didn’t move away. Didn’t want to.

Ray let out a low, dark chuckle.

“Tell me something,” he said, his voice close, heavy with that rasp that made her body tighten. “How does it feel… knowing my son just filled this pussy with not even ten minutes ago—”

He let that hang there, letting the filth of it settle over her like heat.

“—and now you’re about to take mine?”

Lucy didn’t answer. Couldn’t.

Her fingers gripped the sheets, breath caught in her throat.

Ray leaned down, his palm splayed across her lower back to keep her still. Then his mouth followed, lips and stubble ghosting down her spine, lower… lower…

And then he tasted her.

A slow, hungry drag of his tongue that made her cry out into the sheets.

“Jesus,” he muttered against her skin, voice muffled, reverent in a way that made her whole body shudder. “Still so sweet. Still soaking for me.”

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t rush.

He devoured her—like he owned her. Like he’d claimed her. Like nothing about what had just happened upstairs, downstairs, or anywhere else mattered.

Because in this moment, she was his.

Every inch.

Every whimper.

Ray’s tongue worked her with brutal precision—no teasing, no tenderness. Just raw, focused hunger. He gripped her hips tight, holding her still as she writhed beneath his mouth, breath ragged, muffled moans spilling into the sheets.

Her thighs trembled. Her spine arched tighter. She was right on the edge, teetering there, gasping his name like a curse she couldn’t hold back.

Ray’s fingers slipped between her legs, joining his mouth, pushing her harder—deeper into the heat and madness he’d built in her.

He laughed low as she whimpered, her voice high, almost panicked.

“That close already?” he murmured against her. “Poor thing. Has Eric ever even tried to make you feel like this?”

She tried to shake her head—couldn’t even speak.

“Didn’t think so,” he growled, curling his fingers just right.

That did it.

Lucy shattered—back bowing, fingers clawing the sheets as a cry ripped from her throat. Her whole body jerked, lost in the intensity of it, her skin slick with sweat, breath sobbing through her chest.

But he didn’t let her come down.

Ray rose behind her, still hard, still hungry.

“No time to rest now,” he muttered darkly.

And then he drove himself into her in one sharp, punishing thrust.

Lucy cried out, the sound raw and wrecked, as her oversensitive body clenched around him.

Ray groaned, both hands locking on her hips.

“Now,” he growled, voice tight, “you’re gonna learn what it means to be fucked.”Ray slammed into her again, harder now—brutal, unrelenting. The headboard rattled against the wall with every thrust, the sound rhythmic, obscene.

Lucy’s fingers dug into the sheets, her body already overstimulated and raw from her release. But it didn’t matter. She needed it. Needed him. The sting of his grip. The force of his body. The filth of his words.

Behind her, Ray grunted through clenched teeth. “You feel that?”

He pulled her back onto him harder, faster.

“That’s me, deep inside you, while your boyfriend is out there smiling with his fucking friends. Your parents are outside. Whole damn backyard’s full.”

Lucy moaned—loud, desperate.

Too loud.

Ray froze for half a second, his palm smacking down over her mouth, yanking her back against his chest.

“Keep it up,” he growled in her ear, his breath hot, ragged. “Whole damn house is gonna hear you up here getting used like a little whore.”

Her eyes fluttered shut, another moan smothered under his hand as he thrust back into her without mercy.

“You’re sick,” he hissed against her ear. “Sick and starving. You love this. Getting fucked behind your boyfriend’s back while everyone you know is twenty feet away.”

Her muffled cries only spurred him on.

Ray’s rhythm didn’t falter—hard, fast, punishing—as if he was daring her to scream again. Daring her to break. Daring her to let the entire world hear what kind of girl she really was when no one was watching.

Ray’s pace never faltered. If anything, he got rougher—his thrusts brutal, primal, slamming into her with relentless force.

Lucy’s body trembled beneath him, overstimulated, used, wrecked.

“Goddamn,” Ray hissed, watching the way her body clenched around him, greedy and soaked. “Still so tight, even with him dripping out of you.”

He growled low in his throat, the words rough and hungry. “Sloppy little mess. You let him finish inside you, and now you’re letting me tear you apart right after? That’s what you are now, huh?”

Lucy whimpered, face pressed into the sheets, hips jolting with every brutal thrust. Her body was on fire, slick, stretched, aching.

“Tell me,” Ray demanded, yanking her hair hard, forcing her back to arch, her throat exposed. “You gonna come for me again?”

“I—I can’t,” she gasped.

“You can. And you will.” His hand clamped over her mouth again, his voice nothing but grit and command. “You’re gonna soak me. Like a good slut.”

Her cry was muffled under his palm, her body tightening fast, spiraling out of control.

“I feel it,” he snarled. “You’re right there. God, you’re a fucking mess. You lovethis. Being filled, ruined. Used.”

His grip tightened. Her body bucked.

“Now,” he growled against her ear, voice feral. “Come for me. Now.”

And she did.

Lucy shattered around him, body seizing, back arching violently, her cries caught against his palm as her release poured down between her thighs—soaking them both, dripping onto the sheets below.

Ray groaned, still moving, still driving into her through every twitch and spasm.

“Fuck… look at that,” he hissed, jaw clenched. “Look what you just did.”

The bed creaked. Her legs shook. The scent of sweat, sex, and sin thick in the air.

And Ray wasn’t even close to done.

Ray kept going, his grip firm as Lucy’s body convulsed beneath him, riding out every ripple of her release. The slick heat of her climax coated them both—dripping down her thighs, clinging to his skin with every thrust.

She was panting, face buried in the sheets, legs weak and trembling. “I’ve never—” her voice cracked. “I’ve never came like that before.. that much…”

Ray chuckled, low and proud, his hips finally starting to slow, grinding into her with a final, deep thrust. “Yeah, I know.”

He leaned over her, breath hot against her ear. “Only I can do that to you.”

She didn’t argue. She couldn’t.

He pulled back slightly, just enough to trail his hand down her spine, fingers dragging through the mess between her thighs.

Then his voice dropped again—quieter, but rougher.

“Tell me something,” he muttered. “You ever had someone… use your perfect ass?

Lucy hesitated, her cheek still pressed to the mattress. “No,” she whispered. “But… I’ve played back there. With toys.”

Ray grinned—wicked and approving.

“Yeah?” he murmured, gathering the wetness between her thighs with two fingers. “Good. Makes things easier.”

Before she could answer, she felt him shift behind her. His slick fingers moved lower—lower than before—pressing slowly, deliberately against that untouched place.

She gasped, back arching again.

“Relax,” he growled. “Let me in. Just my fingers for now.”

He pushed gently, but firmly, coaxing her open.

“That’s it,” he murmured, voice husky. “Tight little ass… we’ll have to work on that.”

Lucy moaned softly, her body caught somewhere between discomfort and heat.

Ray’s fingers moved deeper. Ray’s fingers worked her slowly at first, stretching her with steady, deliberate pressure, his other hand trailing between her thighs, rubbing her where she was already soaked and pulsing. She jolted at the contact—still sensitive, still raw from everything he’d just wrung out of her.

But her body responded instantly.

“You feel that?” he murmured, lips brushing her shoulder. “One hand filling that tight little hole… the other making you beg for more. Tell me that’s not what you needed.”

Lucy’s eyes fluttered shut, her mouth falling open in a moan that was more a whimper—high, desperate.

“It’s so good,” she gasped. “Feels so dirty… I love it.”

Ray growled behind her, his pace picking up. His fingers pressed deeper, his palm grinding against her as his other hand worked tight little circles where she needed it most.

“Yeah,” he rasped, voice low and sharp. “That’s it. Let me have all of you. Let me ruin you.”

Her body tensed, thighs trembling again.

“I want it,” she panted. “I want it all, Ray. I want you to use everything. Fill me. Anywhere. Everywhere.”

That broke something in him.

His fingers moved harder, faster—one hand working her with relentless control, the other coaxing her right to the edge again.

“Goddamn,” he muttered. “You’re addicted to it now. Getting used. Stretched. Owned.”

She moaned again, louder this time, back arching, pressing herself against every movement.

Ray leaned in, biting the edge of her shoulder, breath ragged. “You keep begging like that,” he growled, “and I’m gonna take every inch of you. Stuff you so full you won’t be able to walk back downstairs without my fingerprints all over you. Without my cum leaking out of you.”

Ray pulled his fingers free, slick and slow, watching Lucy’s body twitch at the sudden emptiness. She let out a breathless gasp, still on her knees, still arched for him—waiting. Ready.

He didn’t say a word as he pressed forward, guiding himself lower, the head of him nudging right against that untouched place. Her breath hitched.

Ray growled low in his throat.

“Relax,” he muttered, one hand gripping her hip, the other spreading her cheeks. “You said you wanted it all.”

He pressed in—slow, thick, stretching her inch by inch. Lucy whimpered, hands fisting in the sheets, her body tensing, then melting as he sank deeper.

“Fuck,” Ray breathed, voice raw and guttural. “So tight. So goddamn tight.”

He paused once he was fully seated inside her, grinding his hips against her backside, letting her feel the full weight of it. Of him.

Then his hand came down—crack—another slap to her ass.

And another.

Lucy moaned, the sound high and broken.

“You feel that?” he snarled. “You’re taking your boyfriend’s father up here like it’s nothing. Like you were meant for it.”

She groaned into the sheets, back arching harder. “I want it… please, Ray—harder.”

He leaned over her, his voice in her ear like gravel and smoke. “You’re such a filthy little whore for me. All soft and sweet outside, but deep down, you’re just a hungry, desperate slut for it.”

She gasped, but didn’t deny it.

“You like getting used by the one man you shouldn’t have,” he growled, pulling back, then slamming forward again, hard enough to make the bed frame creak.

Lucy sobbed out another moan. “Yes. Yes, I love it.”

“You’re not his girl anymore,” he whispered, driving into her again. “You’re mine.”

And the way her body clamped around him, the way she pushed back to take every inch—it told him everything he needed to know.

Ray’s restraint snapped.

He gripped Lucy’s hips like he owned her, like he built her to take this, and started driving into her with punishing force—flesh meeting flesh, the sharp crack of skin slapping echoing off the walls like thunder.

Lucy cried out, loud, lewd, completely undone.

She didn’t try to hold back anymore. Neither did he.

Her moans poured into the room, soaked in filth and need. He didn’t care who heard. He wanted someone to.

“Listen to you,” Ray growled through his teeth, slamming into her harder, faster. “Losing your goddamn mind on my cock. Screaming for your boyfriend’s dad.”

He reached down and grabbed a fistful of her hair again, yanking her head back, forcing her spine into a deep arch.

“You’re not shy now, are you?” he snarled. “No more sweet little girl. Just a filthy, needy whore for me.”

Lucy moaned so loud it bordered on a scream.

His free hand reached around her, slipping between her soaked thighs, and without slowing, he shoved two fingers into her, stretching her again—bothplaces filled now, her body clamping down, wild and desperate.

Ray groaned, deep and primal. “Jesus Christ, look at you. Stuffed full and still begging for more.”

He pounded into her harder, faster, every muscle in his body tensed, slick with sweat.

“Tell me what you are,” he growled, his voice breaking through the sound of the bed rocking and their bodies colliding. “Say it.”

Lucy sobbed out between cries, voice raw and ruined. “I’m yours—your dirty cumslut—your filthy little toy—please, Ray—”

He growled again, nearly feral, slamming into her deep and staying there, grinding against her as his fingers moved rough and fast inside her soaked heat.

“Mine,” he spat. “Say it again.”

“Yours!” she screamed. “All yours!”

Ray didn’t let up.

His thrusts turned savage, deliberate, every movement forcing Lucy’s body to jolt beneath him. Her moans had turned wrecked—broken things that scraped from her throat with every punishing snap of his hips.

He leaned over her, breath hot on her ear, voice gravel and venom.

“Look at you,” he spat. “So fucking desperate. You’ve come how many times now? Just for me.”

She sobbed out something that might’ve been his name—might’ve just been sound.

“Sweet little thing gets her boyfriend’s cum in her and can’t even wait ten minutes before begging for more. And not just more,” he snarled. “All of it. Both holes. My hands. My cock. You wanted it all, didn’t you?”

Her body tightened beneath him again, trembling violently.

“You need to be full,” he growled. “You crave it.”

She choked on a moan, nodding frantically into the sheets. “Yes—yes, please—please—”

Ray slammed into her, deep and hard, fingers still buried between her thighs, dragging her over the edge again—one final wave, sharp and hot, tearing through her like a scream trapped in her chest.

And that was all it took.

He groaned deep in his throat, his entire body jerking as he buried himself inside her and let go—driving in hard one final time, claiming her in the filthiest way, hips grinding down as her body milked every last drop from him.

The room was thick with the scent of sweat and sex, the bed soaked and wrecked beneath them. Their bodies collapsed together, tangled and heaving, still pulsing with aftershocks.

And then—knock knock.

They both froze.

A muffled voice came through the door, a little amused, a little impatient. “Ray. Wrap it up. People are starting to ask where you ran off to.”

Lucy’s eyes went wide. That voice.

It was Grant.

Eric’s uncle.

Ray didn’t move at first. Then he grinned, dark and satisfied. “Yeah, yeah. On my way,” he called back, breath still ragged.

Footsteps retreated.

Lucy turned her head slowly to look at him. “Why did he… how did Grant know you were up here?”

Ray grabbed a towel from the nightstand drawer—clearly not the first time he’d done this—and began cleaning her up with a practiced, almost tender hand.

“Because,” he said with a smirk, “I told him.”

Lucy blinked. “You what?”

Ray leaned down, brushing his lips just barely over hers.

“Grant’s the reason I got away,” he murmured. “He covered for me so I could come up here and deal with you properly.”

She stared at him, stunned. A little breathless. Still ruined from what he’d just done to her.

Then Ray gave her a wink—dark, amused, dangerous.

“Maybe next time,” he said, voice low, “I won’t lock the door.”

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing her ear.

“Let him see what you turn into when you’re really being handled.”