Chapter 10: Round Two
He began to move.
At first, it was just a shallow, grinding rock, the enormous fullness inside her shifting with a slow, torturous friction that drew a long, low moan from her throat. “Mmmhhh…” It was a sound of overwhelmed sensation, of a body stretched to its limit trying to process the sheer scale of the invasion. With each slight withdrawal, she felt a shocking emptiness, only to gasp as he pushed back in, that thick crown stretching her open all over again. “Ah! God… right there…”
Then the thrusts deepened. Not much, but enough to steal her breath. He established a rhythm, slow and deliberate, each stroke a conscious, forceful claiming. Her little cries punctuated every inward drive. “Oh!…Oh! …Fuck!” They were sharp, involuntary exhalations punched from her lungs. Her hands twisted in the sheets, the old cotton rough under her nails. Her world narrowed to the slap of skin, the wet sound of their joining, and the devastating stretch that was already beginning to blur the line between pain and a pleasure so intense it felt like terror.
“Breathe, Rachel,” Peter growled above her, his voice strained with his own control. His eyes were dark, fixed on where their bodies met. “Just breathe and take it.”
She couldn’t not take it. He was in control, a piston of flesh and muscle. Her hips began to meet his, a feeble, instinctive twitch that made him smirk. “There you go. Your body knows. It doesn’t lie like your head does.”
The pace quickened. The slow, deep pumps became harder, more urgent. Rachel’s breathing turned to ragged pants, her moans dissolving into a continuous stream of broken sound. “Uh—uh—uh—” Her head tossed side to side on the pillow. The coil in her belly, wound tight from the moment he’d first touched her, snapped with shocking speed. A climax ripped through her, sudden and violent, her back arching off the bed as a raw scream tore from her throat. “AAAAH! PETER!”
He didn’t stop. Not even a hitch in his rhythm. He fucked her right through the convulsing waves, his thrusts turning her sharp cries into gulping sobs of overstimulation. “Ohgodohgod… too much… it’s too much…”
“You can take more,” he said, his breath hot against her ear. Then his hands were on her thighs, pushing them up and back, folding her nearly in half. Her knees pressed against her own shoulders, her body utterly exposed and opened to him. She stared, wide-eyed, at the obscene angle. “Look at that. Look how deep I get you like this. Finn ever try this? Bet he couldn’t even get you halfway.”
The new position was a revelation. He was deeper, impossibly so. It felt like he was in her throat, like he was rearranging something fundamental behind her navel. A fresh, dizzying wave of sensation crashed over her.“Holy shit! What is that? What are you hitting?!” she babbled, her voice high and frantic. “It’s different, it’s deeper, you’re gonna break me—!”
He gripped her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh, and drove into her with renewed force. The bedframe began a rhythmic knock against the wall. The pace was relentless, punishing, perfect. She was mindless with it, a vessel for pure feeling. Words spilled out of her, filthy and true. “Your cock is a monster! You’re wrecking me! You’re so much bigger than him, it’s not even the same thing—!Ah! AH! I’m gonna come again, I’m gonna come on your giant fucking cock—!”
The second orgasm was even more intense than the first, a rolling earthquake that left her shuddering and blind. As she clenched around him, milking him, he gave a final, brutal series of thrusts and stilled, burying himself to the hilt with a guttural roar.Heat flooded her. A sudden, profound spill of wet warmth that filled the spaces his thickness had carved out. She felt it surge inside her, a shocking intimacy that made her gasp. “Oh… you’re coming… I can feel it…”
It kept coming. More than she’d ever felt, ever imagined. It was a torrent. As he pulsed within her, the excess spilled out around the seal of his cock, a hot trickle that ran down the curve of her ass and soaked the sheet beneath her. “So much,” she whispered, dazed. “Finn… it’s never like that. It’s never that full.”
He softened inside her, slipping out with a wet, messy sound. She collapsed, limbs liquid, a spent doll. The room smelled of sex and sweat and him. She lay there, feeling his come leak out of her, a slow, warm seep onto her thighs. She was ruined, gloriously, comprehensively ruined.
She expected him to collapse beside her. To need a minute.An hour.
Peter didn’t.
Before her breathing had even steadied, a hand closed on her shoulder. “On your knees,” he said, his voice already thick with renewed intent.
“Wha—?” was all she managed before he was rolling her over, pushing her up onto her hands and knees. The movement made more of his come dribble out of her. The position felt vulnerable, animal. She heard him move behind her, felt the head of his cock, already hard again, nudge against her soaked, swollen entrance.
“Peter, wait, I’m so sensitive, I just—”
He thrust. Not a slow entry this time. A single, powerful drive that buried him back inside her aching, overfilled pussy to the root.
“YEOW!” she yelped, the sound sharp and surprised. The fullness was immediate, brutal, wonderful.
He didn’t wait. He set a hard, driving pace, his hands firm on her hips, pulling her back onto him with each slam. The slap of his body against hers was loud in the quiet room. Her cries were muffled by the mattress, her face pressed against the rumpled sheets that smelled of them.
Then one hand left her hip. It tangled in her hair, fisting the dark strands, and pulled her head back sharply. The sudden dominance of it, the slight sting on her scalp, sent a jolt straight to her core.
Finn had tried that, once. A timid, awkward tug during a boring Friday night fuck. She’d instantly recoiled, slapped his hand away, said it was degrading. He’d never tried again.
This was different. Peter did it with an unthinking certainty, a claim of ownership that should have revolted her. Instead, a third climax began to coil, low and deep, spurred by the sheer audacity of it. He was her boyfriend’s brother. He was using her, and he wasn’t pretending otherwise. The honesty of his hunger was the most arousing thing she’d ever known.
“Yeah,” he grunted, his rhythm becoming frantic, animalistic.“Take it. This is what you needed, isn’t it? What my careful big brother never gives you. He doesn’t fuck you like this. He doesn’t fill you up like this.”
He was right. He was so right. The admission shattered the last fragment of her pretense. She sobbed into the sheets, her body convulsing around him in a third, shattering peak that felt ripped from her soul. He followed seconds later, another hot, startling flood inside her, marking her all over again.
When he pulled out this time, she collapsed forward, completely spent. She felt hollowed out and overflowing at the same time, semen dripping steadily from between her thighs. She couldn’t move. She could barely think.
She heard the floorboard creak. Peter stood, his shadow falling over her for a moment. She felt a rough, affectionate pat on her ass. “Good girl,” he said, his voice casual, almost conversational. “I’m gonna get a drink. You rest up.” He paused at the door. “Round two’s gonna be longer.”
The door clicked shut behind him.
Rachel lay in the dim, messy room, the taste of sheet cotton in her mouth, the evidence of what they’d done—what she’d done—cooling on her skin. Her whole body hummed, a live wire of aftermath. Somewhere, in the fuzzy, distant part of her mind, a alarm was sounding. It was very, very faint. All she could hear was the pounding of her own heart, and the sound of Peter in the kitchen, opening the fridge.