I thought he’d stop.
Thought the last time was the last time.
But his knot stayed swollen inside me, pulsing slow and heavy, twitching every few seconds like it was still thinking about f*****g. He trembled behind me, his chest pressed to my back, both of us soaked in sweat and c*m.
I barely had the strength to move.
He was panting.
Then he whimpered again.
“Please…”
I flinched. His voice was broken. Raw. Not just from the way he’d growled through the last three orgasms—but from something else. Desperation.
He pulled back, knot dragging out slow, wet, and wide.
I cried out, body jerking. I was gaping. Dripping. Ruined.
He turned me gently, like I’d break if he moved too fast, and sat again, back against the cave wall. His arms opened.
“Come here,” he rasped.
I didn’t move.
“I
