Prelati

Shirou stepped into the room and halted at sight.

"Ahh, Emiya Shirou," White hair girl said, her voice a soft melody that filled the space between them.

Her dark eyes sparkled as a crazy smile playing on her lips. She was dressed in a white gown with black stripes.

Her name was Francesca Prelati.

One of more dangerous resident of chaldea.

Her reputation was notorious, a fiery mage who danced on the edge of chaos.

Shirou felt a peculiar mix of caution and attraction as he studied her, his eyes tracing the curve of her hips beneath the flowing fabric. She was a **** of nature, a whirlwind of beauty and destruction wrapped in a deceptive shroud of innocence.

"Francesca," he breathed, his voice tight.

Her name hung in the air like an incantation, charging the space around them.

Shirou's heart hammered in his chest as he took a tentative step closer to her.

"I've been waiting for you," she said, turning to face him fully. Her eyes were pools of darkness, hinting at the depths of her desire.

The room was a cage of tension, the air thick with anticipation. He knew what she wanted, what she craved, and he was going to give it to her.

Shirou stalked towards her like a predator closing in on its prey, his eyes never leaving hers. She met his gaze with a challenge, a silent dare to push her to the edge. His hand shot out, grabbing a fistful of her hair and yanking her head back, exposing her neck to his ravenous gaze.

With a snarl, he claimed her mouth, his teeth biting down hard enough to draw a gasp of pain that morphed into a moan as his tongue invaded her, tasting her sweetness and fire.

Shirou's other hand found the fabric her gown, pulling it down. The fabric fell away from her body like a whispered secret, revealing the treasure beneath. Her breasts bounced free, the rosy nipples already hard with want. He palmed one roughly, squeezing until she whimpered, the sound sending a jolt of lust straight to his groin.

His clothes followed the path of destruction, ripped away in a frenzy of passion that left them him exposed to her hungry eyes. Shirou's hands roamed her body, leaving a trail of fire wherever they touched.

He pinched and twisted her nipples until she bucked against him, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Shirou," she murmured, a plea wrapped in a whimper.

He didn't need another invitation. Lifting her effortlessly, Shirou pushed her onto the bed, the mattress groaning under their combined weight. He hovered above her, his eyes dark with a primal hunger that sent a thrill down her spine.

"You want this, right? You like being ravaged, don't you?" he growled, his voice a harsh whisper that seemed to shake the very air around them.

Francesca's only response was a nod, her eyes glazed with a need so raw it was almost painful to witness.

Shirou didn't waste another second. He slammed into her, his cock splitting her open with a **** that made her scream.

She arched up to meet him, her body a canvas of passion and agony as he claimed her over and over again. Each thrust was punctuated by the smack of their bodies colliding, a rhythm that seemed to echo through the very walls of the room.

Her nails dug into his back, leaving trails of red that stood out starkly against his pale skin. He reveled in her pain, in the way she squirmed and moaned beneath him, her legs wrapping around his waist, pulling him deeper.

Shirou's strokes grew more brutal, his hips a blur as he pounded into her with a ferocity that bordered on the savage. He could feel her tightening around him, her body begging for release, but he held back, prolonging the exquisite torment.

Her legs locked around his waist, urging him faster. The bed frame creaked and groaned in protest with every forceful thrust, the headboard banging against the wall in a relentless rhythm that mirrored the chaos of their union.

Shirou's grip on her hair tightened, pulling her head back further, exposing her neck and the delicate line of her throat. He kissed along her neck, sucking hard enough to leave bruises, feeling her pulse race beneath his lips.

With every brutal thrust, he could feel her tightening around him, her muscles clenching and releasing in a dance of ecstasy. He knew he was being rough, but this is how she liked it.

The way she moaned and thrashed only proved Shirou right, so, his strokes growing more violent, more demanding. He knew no mercy, only the primal urge to conquer and claim her.

All that mattered was the friction, the heat, the delicious pain that melded them together in a dance of desire.

Shirou's cock plunged into her relentlessly, his hips a piston of pleasure and punishment. Each thrust was a declaration of war on her senses, a battle she was losing with every gasp and shiver.

Her legs trembled, trying to keep up with the pace he set, but it was futile. He was too strong, too demanding. He didn't just fuck her; he owned her, every inch of her body bowing to his will.

Shirou felt her orgasm approaching. He could see it in her eyes, feel it in the way she writhed beneath him.

With a snarl, he shifted his angle, pounding into her G-spot with precision that made her eyes roll back in her head. "Look at me," he commanded, his voice thick with lust. "Look at me when you come for me."

Her eyes snapped open, and she did as he said, their gazes locking in a battle of wills. He watched as the pleasure built in her, her pupils dilating until all that was left was a ring of darkness around them.

Shirou's grip on her hair grew more punishing, his thrusts more violent. He could feel her pussy tightening around him, a velvet vice that threatened to milk him dry.

With a savage growl, he slammed into her with such **** that the bed nearly toppled. Her body jolted with the impact, her back arching off the mattress, her tits bouncing with every brutal collision.

Her eyes widened in shock at the intensity of the pleasure-pain, but she didn't protest. Instead, her hips rose to meet him, urging him to go deeper, harder.

Shirou didn't hold back. He fucked her with everything he had, his cock a weapon of lust and dominance. Her walls clamped down around him, her juices coating him in a slick embrace.

Her eyes rolled back again, her orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. Her body spasmed around him, her cunt milking him with every convulsion. The pleasure was so intense she thought she might shatter into a million pieces.

Shirou watched her come undone, his own orgasm building, the pressure in his balls almost unbearable.

He felt her body tighten around him, her muscles spasming as she climaxed. The sight was too much, and he gave in to his own release, his cock pulsing deep inside her, filling her with his hot seed.

Their bodies remained locked together as they rode the waves of pleasure, both panting and trembling with the intensity of their shared climax. The room was filled with the scent of their mingled sweat and arousal, a heady perfume that seemed to thicken the air.