Iain hovered behind her, cock flushed and firm, the thick head pressed right up against Sophie’s soaked entrance. Her body was trembling, every inch of her slick, open, and begging. But he wasn’t giving in. Not yet.

Instead of driving into her, he pulled back—again.

A needy whimper escaped Sophie’s throat, her hips subtly rocking back, trying to coax him in. But Iain only smirked and dropped to his knees behind her, large hands spreading her cheeks wide. He leaned in, kissing the base of her spine, trailing his lips across the curve of her hip and then further—down her thigh, up again, slow, wet, adoring kisses pressed to every inch of her soft skin.

He turned her gently, laying her back on the studio’s makeshift bed of blankets and throws. The camera stayed fixed, recording her flushed body as Iain moved above her, finally placing a kiss to her lips—then her neck—then lower. His mouth was reverent, worshipping. He made her feel wanted, owned, craved.

When he reached her breasts, he didn’t rush. He cupped them first, thumbs brushing her nipples until they peaked. Then his tongue darted out, swirling around one, then the other. He kissed them, licked them, sucked them into his mouth until she was squirming beneath him, moaning helplessly.

Then he bit down.

Sophie gasped, the sharp edge of his teeth against her nipple drawing a cry of pleasure and pain. He bit harder, pulled, then soothed it with his tongue. She was arching now, fingers gripping the throw beneath her.

“Iain—please—God, I need—”

He silenced her with a kiss, before pulling away again and sliding lower, his lips trailing down her stomach, tongue dipping into her bellybutton as his hands caressed her sides, hips, inner thighs. Every move was maddening. Every moment of denial made her pulse throb harder.

But Sophie couldn’t take it anymore. She lifted her hips, trying again to line her soaked pussy up with the head of his cock, still swollen, still waiting.

He felt her movement. Instantly, Iain’s hand clamped down on her hip—and crack.

The first slap was hard. Flat-palmed. Echoing.

Sophie jolted, her breath catching in her throat.

Crack. The second one followed fast, the sting burning beautifully. He didn’t stop—he slapped again, harder this time, leaving a glowing red print across her pale, trembling ass cheek.

“Did I tell you to move?” Iain growled, hovering over her now, eyes dark and wild with control.

She shook her head, voice shaky. “N-no, Sir.”

He grinned at the submission, brushing his fingers gently across the reddened skin. “Then you stay still. You’re mine to enjoy, Sophie. Every inch of you.”

And he proved it—by kissing the very cheek he had just marked, tongue darting out to taste the warmth of her skin, a possessive sigh leaving his lips as he watched her twitch under the attention.

The camera caught it all.

And just below, the head of his cock still hovered—so close to her entrance it was driving her insane.

“I’m going to taste every inch of you,” he murmured into her skin, lips brushing her shoulder. “Then I’ll decide if you’ve earned this cock.”

Iain’s grip tightened just a little more on Sophie’s hips, knuckles whitening as he held himself just shy of plunging into her again. The way her slickness coated his cock, the heat pulsing from her soaking entrance—it tested every ounce of control he had left. Sophie’s eyes met his, pupils blown wide, lips parted with hunger. Her chest heaved beneath him, nipples hard and swollen from his earlier attention, her skin flushed and glistening.

“Please, Iain,” she whispered, her voice shaking with unrestrained desire. “I need you inside me. I need your cock to fill me again. Please don’t make me wait.”

He traced the tip of his cock over her folds, teasing the hood of her clit with a slow drag that made her legs quake. He watched the reaction play across her face—eyelids fluttering, mouth dropping open in a breathless moan. Her hips jerked involuntarily, trying to force him in, but he pulled back with a wicked smirk.

“Not until you beg me properly,” he growled, leaning down to graze his teeth along the curve of her neck.

Sophie’s fingers clawed at the sheets. She spread her legs wider, raising her knees in a silent plea. “I want it, Iain. I want your cock inside me. I want to feel every inch. I want to be used. Fuck me… fill me… I need to cum on your cock, please!”

That was the moment he gave in. With one deep, hard thrust, he sank into her—slowly at first—stretching her open, inch by agonizing inch. The slick resistance of her pussy clenching around his girth made them both groan. She threw her head back, crying out his name as her body trembled beneath him.

He set a brutal pace, hips snapping forward, driving deep into her with each stroke. The wet, obscene sounds of their bodies colliding filled the room, mixed with her breathy moans and his growls of pleasure. Her pussy clenched around him, sucking him in deeper, desperate to keep him inside.

Sophie’s fingers found her clit, rubbing in frantic circles while he fucked her into the mattress. Iain’s hand tangled in her hair, pulling her head back to kiss her roughly, tongue dominating hers as their pleasure built to a near-breaking point.

But he still wasn’t ready to let her fall over the edge. Just as she started to tighten around him, her moans rising higher—he stopped. Pulled out. Left her pulsing and gasping.

“Not yet,” he panted, eyes dark and wicked. “You’ll cum when I say so, and not a second before.”

She whimpered, legs trembling, body aching for release.

Sophie was still reeling from the cruel denial, her body shaking as Iain stood at the edge of the bed, looking down at her with raw hunger in his eyes. Her inner thighs glistened with arousal, her nipples swollen and flushed, every inch of her body begging for satisfaction.

Iain raised the camera again, now recording, and pointed it toward her quivering form. “Put yourself in the position you want me to fuck you in next,” he said, voice low and commanding.

With trembling limbs, Sophie obeyed. She rolled onto her hands and knees, then dropped her chest low so her arse was arched high in the air, spreading herself wide. She reached back, one hand spreading her lips, the other slipping between her legs. Her fingers plunged into her soaked pussy with ease, two then three, fucking herself for the camera.

The sight made Iain’s cock twitch painfully. He stepped closer, filming her as she moaned his name, fingers pumping with wet, slick sounds.

“Wider,” he ordered, and she obeyed, adjusting her knees to open her even more. “Show me how much you want to be used.”

She added her thumb to her clit, rubbing fast as she finger-fucked herself harder. “I need your cock, Iain,” she gasped. “I want it so deep. I want to cum all over it.”

Iain dropped to his knees behind her, spreading her cheeks with his hands and spitting directly on her asshole before smearing it with his thumb. She moaned, pushing back toward him. He leaned in, flicking his tongue over the tight rim, making her jolt forward.

“Fuck—yes—” Sophie moaned.

But instead of giving her what she begged for, Iain stood and pressed the thick head of his cock against her dripping entrance once again. Not entering—just letting it throb there.

“You’re not cumming until I say,” he growled. “You’re mine now, Sophie. Every inch of you belongs to me.”

She whimpered, still rubbing herself, still aching, waiting for him to finally give her everything.

“Beg for it again,” he said.

Her voice cracked with need. “Please, Iain… fuck me… fill me… own me.”

He grinned, still holding back. “Soon, sweetheart. Very soon.”

Sophie was trembling, not from fear, but from that maddening edge Iain had kept her perched on for far too long. Her body burned — not just with need, but with anticipation, with the delicious frustration he stirred in her every time he stopped just shy of giving her what she craved.

She was all but panting now, hair wild, skin flushed, every inch of her skin slick with heat and hunger. Her voice cracked as she whimpered, "Please… Iain… I need you."

Iain hovered over her, his hand wrapped firmly around the base of his cock, thick and pulsing, glistening at the tip from how ready he was. He pressed himself against her slick, aching folds — just barely — letting her feel him there, heavy and hot. He watched her eyes roll back at the tease, saw her hips push desperately upward in a futile attempt to take what he still refused to give.

“You’ve wanted this,” he growled low, lips brushing her ear. “Say it. Tell me what you want.”

“I want you,” she gasped, breathless. “I want to feel every inch of your cock inside me. I want you to fuck me, Iain… Please… Please fill me, make me yours…”

That was the moment. The one he’d made her crawl toward, beg for, ache over. And now, finally, he gave in — not in surrender, but as a reward.

He slid into her slowly — agonisingly so — inch by thick, throbbing inch. Sophie’s lips parted in a soft, desperate moan as her body opened around him, stretching deliciously to take him. Her legs wrapped around his waist as if to hold him there, to anchor him inside her.

Iain groaned deeply, a sound from the very core of him, as her wet heat surrounded him. Tight. Warm. Addictive. He paused, buried halfway, just to watch her writhe, her hands clawing at his back.

“You feel that?” he said, voice rough and low. “That’s mine now.”

She nodded, dazed, her fingernails dragging along his skin. “Yes… all yours… don’t stop, don’t you dare stop…”

With a slow, powerful roll of his hips, he sank the rest of the way in. Sophie arched beneath him, a cry of absolute pleasure escaping her as he filled her completely. And then — he moved.

Not fast. Not yet. He thrust with control, claiming her body with every stroke, each movement deliberate and deep. He kissed her neck, her collarbone, sucked gently at the peak of each breast as his pace slowly built — not frantic, but full of tension, like a coiled spring ready to snap.

Sophie clung to him, gasping out his name between moans, begging him not to stop. But he wasn’t going to stop. Not until they both shattered.

Their bodies moved in perfect rhythm, tangled and slick with sweat and desire, the camera long forgotten on its tripod capturing every moment of their connection — raw, intimate, real.

And just as they hovered on the edge, their eyes locked — his filled with hunger, hers with a mix of surrender and satisfaction — still craving more even as the wave built toward the inevitable.

But that climax—it would be a shared one. And it was coming.

She couldn’t take any more.

Sophie’s body was a live wire, trembling and taut with a need that had built for what felt like eternity. Every thrust from Iain was deep and deliberate, perfectly controlled, maddeningly slow, dragging her closer to that edge he’d kept her teetering on for so long. Her skin prickled with heat, her thighs trembling around his hips as he stayed locked inside her, thick and pulsing, his rhythm unrelenting.

It wasn’t just sex. It was possession. Worship. A breaking point wrapped in silk and sweat.

“Iain,” she whimpered, her voice already breaking, her hands clutching at his back, nails digging in with desperation. “I—please don’t stop.”

His hand moved between them. Fingers slick with her arousal, he circled her clit with slow, devastating precision. He didn’t need to ask—he knew exactly how close she was. Had felt it in the way her body clenched, the way her moans caught in her throat, the way her hips refused to stay still beneath him.

“Now,” he growled, low and dark, his lips brushing her ear. “I want you to come for me. I want to feel you fall apart around my cock.”

And she did.

It hit her like a tidal wave. A scream ripped from her lips as her entire body locked and then shattered beneath him. Her walls clamped around him in tight, pulsing waves, soaking him, drawing him in as if her body refused to let him go. Her back arched, every muscle tensing in blinding release, her vision going white at the edges.

The pleasure was raw, unfiltered, years of need crashing through her all at once.

She sobbed his name, not from pain, but from overwhelming bliss, and that’s what did it.

That sound. Her voice, wrecked and gasping, shaking from the force of her orgasm.

Iain snapped.

With a curse torn from his throat, he slammed deep, holding himself there as the first pulse of his own climax surged through him. His whole body shuddered against hers, every muscle flexing as he spilled inside her, heat flooding her in thick, relentless waves. His hips jerked, uncontrolled now, his dominance breaking down in the wake of her release. And he groaned—deep, guttural, like her name had broken loose from his soul.

They came together. One long, brutal climax, writhing and gasping in each other’s arms. Her body clenched rhythmically around him, milking every drop of him as his cock throbbing, releasing everything he’d held back. There was no barrier now, no more holding back, no teasing, no denial.

Only them. Bare. Spent. Unraveled.

Iain collapsed to his elbows above her, his forehead pressing into hers, his breath coming in harsh pants. Sophie was shaking beneath him, eyes half-lidded, lips parted as she tried to speak but couldn’t. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, slick with sweat, nipples still stiff from overstimulation.

He looked down at her — flushed, dazed, beautiful — and he kissed her.

Not hard. Not demanding.

Just a kiss. Reverent. Tender. Like she was the only thing in the world that made sense.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered against her mouth. “You’re mine.”

She nodded weakly, a soft smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“Yes,” she whispered. “Always.”

And beneath them, the camera kept rolling—quiet, forgotten, but capturing it all.

Not just the sex. Not just the heat.

The connection. The moment everything finally broke loose, together.

Fin