Chapter Thirty

TRINITY

He stalked toward me with a quiet, dangerous kind of energy, like a predator moving in for the kill—his voice a low rumble that sent fire curling between my legs.

“Do you wanna play tonight?”

The words, spoken as his hand slid up the inside of my calf, felt like a switch had been thrown in my body. I was already burning for him, and the moan that slipped through my lips didn’t surprise either of us. It was guttural, needy—feral.

He didn’t wait for an answer. The moment I gave him that sound, he moved with purpose. In a blur of motion, he had us stripped, our clothes scattered like forgotten intentions across the floor. We were both left in nothing but our underwear, and then he was over me—his half-hard cock pressing against my core, teasing me, tempting me. His eyes were hooded, predatory. Mine were wide with anticipation.

“Fuck…” I whimpered as he slowly ground against my pelvis, our breaths syncing, hearts thundering. He worked on the tiny clasp at the back of my bra as I kicked off my thong with impatient feet.

“You’re already soaked, baby,” he rasped, kissing down my collarbone.

His briefs hit the floor a second later, and he brought his cock back to my heat, dragging it along my folds.

Then his hand slipped between us—finding my clit.

“Stephen!” I cried out, hips arching instinctively, the pleasure immediate and hot. His fingers circled me, slow at first, then firmer. He plunged one finger into me and I gasped, the thickness of him curling just enough to make my walls tremble. He added a second finger, stretching me, scissoring gently as I writhed underneath him.

He worked me with expert precision—long strokes, deep pressure, pausing to circle just the way he knew made me lose my damn mind.

The edge was approaching fast, a warning spark deep in my belly. But something flickered in my mind—that night. When he’d made me taste myself from his fingers. I reached down and grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand up to my lips. One by one, I licked his fingers clean—wet, warm, sweet with my arousal.

His cock twitched against my thigh, a low groan escaping his throat.

“Jesus, Trinity…”

He didn’t wait.

Stephen turned us onto our sides and slid inside me, his front to my back, spooning me as he buried his cock deep into my pussy. The stretch of him made me whimper, my whole body clenching around him. He wrapped one arm around my chest, palm cupping my breast, the other gripping tight at my stomach like he was afraid I’d disappear.

He fucked me slowly—so slowly—deliberate and deep, every thrust brushing that perfect spot. My breath hitched and caught in my throat with every inward push, every drag of his cock along my tight walls.

“Do you enjoy fucking me, Daddy?” I whispered, one hand reaching back to tangle in his hair.

“Yes…” he hissed into my neck. “I fucking love fucking you.”

His pace quickened, the wet slap of his hips against my ass echoing between the gasps and moans we shared. One hand slid back down to my clit, stroking me again, pushing me closer and closer to that edge.

And then—he stopped.

He slipped out of me and flipped me gently onto my stomach. My cheek pressed to the soft pillow, heartbeat hammering in my ears. I felt his weight shift behind me as he grabbed a fistful of my hair, his cock teasing my folds again before he drove back in with a rough groan.

“Oh, fuck!” I cried out, gripping the sheets.

His rhythm built fast and hard, hips snapping into me with sharp, punishing thrusts that had my eyes rolling back. I felt the sweat gather at the base of my spine, my body twisting to meet every drive, every inch of him.

He leaned down, his mouth at my ear.

“What do you need?” he asked, the words brushing hot against my skin. “Tell me.”

I swallowed, cheeks flushed, but the hunger inside me screamed louder than my fear.

“I’ve felt you push my ass open with your fingers…” I paused, voice quaking. “I want to feel your cock do it, too.”

His entire body froze. Still buried inside me, he stilled—heart pounding against my back, breath uneven.

“You do?” His voice had changed—deeper, darker. A growl of lust barely contained.

“Don’t you?” I asked softly, testing his limits, teasing him with the truth.

“I fucking love that ass,” he whispered, reverent. “Pounding into it would be like heaven.”

“Then do it…”

The words hadn’t even finished leaving my mouth before he pulled out and reached toward his bedside drawer. The click of the bottle cap, the sound of lube being poured into his hand—it was fast, efficient, hungry.

He spread my ass cheeks, one slick hand working my clit in slow, wet circles while the other slid two fingers into my tight hole. The stretch burned slightly, but his touch, his whisper, his constant checking of my breathing, made it feel intimate, sensual … right.

“God, that’s the sexiest sound in the world,” he murmured, as I moaned from the dual sensations. “You ready?”

“Yes,” I panted. “Please.”

He kissed my lower back, fingers stroking gently.

“Breathe for me, baby…”

And then—pressure. The blunt head of his cock nudged at my hole, slow and steady, and I yelped—a soft sound, a mix of pain and bliss. He paused instantly, lips on my spine.

“Are you alright?” he whispered, concern and fire mixing in his tone. His hand came up to stroke my shoulder, grounding me.

I nodded against the pillow, a smile tugging at my lips even through the ache.

“I’m better than alright,” I breathed. “I want all of you.”

“Just go slow until I adjust…” I pleaded, my voice trembling, caught somewhere between desperation and awe. Every nerve ending in my body felt like it had been stripped raw, hypersensitive to his every breath, his every heartbeat against my skin.

“Of course,” Stephen murmured, his voice so gentle it melted into my spine. He leaned forward, bracing himself with his hands on either side of my shoulders, his body blanketing mine with warmth and safety.

He didn’t move.

He stayed still, completely still, letting me breathe through it. Letting me learn him like this. He pressed his lips to the side of my neck, soft and slow, and the contrast of his tenderness with the stretch of him inside me made my eyes flutter closed. The fullness was intense—different—but it wasn’t pain. Not anymore. It was something else.

I focused on my breathing, trying to relax those tight muscles that clenched around him on instinct. I wasn’t ready for words, but my hips moved on their own—small, slow, coaxing circles that welcomed him deeper.

“Better?” he asked, still perfectly still, his lips ghosting along my sweat-damp skin.

“Yes,” I whispered, barely audible through my sigh.

And that’s when he moved.

With near torturous slowness, he pressed in the rest of the way. Inch by inch, he filled me until I was utterly, exquisitely stretched around him. I gasped aloud, not out of discomfort but because the sensation was so incredibly intense. Full. That was the only word for it.

He pulled out, nearly all the way, and then glided back in—just as slow, just as steady. And I cried out. I knew I was being too loud, but I couldn’t care. Not with him so deep inside of me, not with this much heat and trust binding us together.

His cock in my ass felt incredible—strange but electric, like we’d crossed into something uncharted, raw, and so intimate it made my eyes burn with the force of it. I clutched the sheets beneath me, my knuckles whitening as the pleasure mounted.

Stephen’s pace stayed slow but firm, every thrust deliberate, every sound he made into my skin tightening the coil inside me. He grabbed my hair, kissing my neck with fierce affection, a contrast to the rough pull of his cock.

“Baby…” he growled, panting. “You feel so fucking good … your beautiful ass gripping my cock. Fuck…”

“I love it…” I moaned, pressing my hips back into him, craving more. “God, I love it, Stephen…”

I reached between my legs and touched myself, circling my clit in tandem with his rhythm. Pleasure detonated through me like wildfire. The room became a haze—our bodies were slick with sweat, breathing in ragged harmony. The friction, the fullness, his weight above me, the closeness … it was all-consuming.

“Babe—” he rasped, voice strangled with lust. “Let me cum inside your ass, please…”

I couldn’t speak, could only nod, whimpering as the words lodged in my throat. The permission was all he needed.

He surged forward, driving deeper, harder—his thrusts wild now, every muscle in his body wound tight. I felt him grow even harder, and then, with a guttural cry, I felt him come undone inside me. The heat of him pouring into me was too much—too intimate, too overwhelming—and I came again, my body convulsing beneath his.

“Fuck…” he gasped, collapsing on top of me, chest heaving, his body trembling in time with mine. He was still inside me, still throbbing, as we laid there in the tangled silence of our shared orgasm.

We stayed like that, motionless, our breathing slowly syncing, our bodies slick and buzzing with aftershocks. I felt a warmth I couldn’t explain—more than just the physical kind. It was something deeper, like an invisible thread had knotted us together in a way that couldn’t be undone.

Eventually, he pulled out carefully, and I nearly climaxed again just from the sensation. I whimpered, eyes fluttering as I felt him kiss my shoulder.

Without a word, he reached around me and guided us into our usual sideways spoon—his arms coiling around my middle, tucking me in. He buried his face in the crook of my neck, his breath hot and heavy.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever recover from that,” he muttered, his voice unsteady, still shaking with release.

I could only nod, still too breathless to respond. “It was incredible … you were… the way you make me feel…” My words broke off, my chest still rising and falling too fast to keep up.

We lay there tangled, our bodies a map of passion and trust, our skin slicked in shared heat. He kissed my cheek, and I turned toward him to kiss him back—slow, deep, full of meaning.

We didn’t need to speak anymore.

We were already telling each other everything.