Knock her up

The warning only served to ignite a darker, more possessive impulse within you. The idea of a barrier, of a careful withdrawal, felt like a relic of the man you had discarded. You wanted to leave something permanent inside her, a mark that no amount of Dior perfume or champagne silk could erase. You felt the pressure mounting, a tidal wave of release that threatened to shatter your control. You didn't slow down, instead accelerating your thrusts, hammering into her with a rhythmic, primal force that left her sobbing for air against the vanity.

As the first wave of pleasure crashed over you, you didn't pull back. You lunged forward, burying your balls deep against her shaking thighs, driving your cock into her as far as it could possibly go. You held her there, pinning her to the ledge, as you let out a guttural roar and emptied your balls into her. The sensation of the warm, thick release flooding her depths was an intoxicating rush, a visceral claim of ownership that felt more honest than any conversation you had ever had. You felt her internal muscles clenching in a frantic, reflexive rhythm, trying to hold onto the seed you were pouring into her.

You stayed buried inside her for a long minute, the only sound the heavy, synchronized heaving of your chests. The heat of the seed pulsed between you, a hidden secret now locked within her body. You felt a surge of cold, calculated satisfaction as you realized you had bypassed the game and rewritten the rules. You slowly slid out of her, the wet, suctioning sound echoing in the small room, and you watched as a few stray droplets of your essence leaked from her overfilled center and ran down the tiles.