Push

You stay buried to the hilt inside her, the thick length stretching her open, and let your hand settle around her throat. Not squeezing. Just resting there with clear intent, thumb against the side of her neck, the weight of it a quiet warning while you keep her wrists pinned with the other hand.

“Whose is it?” you ask, voice low and hard. “The baby. The dates that don’t line up with me. Tanya’s messages. You don’t get to pull me into bed and pretend the phone never lit up. Answer me.”

Natasha’s eyes are wide. The calculated heat she tried to use as deflection falters under the stillness and the hand at her throat. Her soft body stays locked beneath you, cunt still gripping the full 8.5 inches, breathing shallow against the light pressure of your palm. The sheet is tangled around one of her legs. Brunette hair is spread across the pillow. The same woman who spent six months saying no is now fully open and caught.

She swallows once. The movement is visible under your hand. When she speaks her voice is quieter, the earlier attempt at seduction stripped away.

“I… I don’t know how to start.”

You don’t move your hips. You don’t ease the hand at her throat. You simply wait, cock throbbing deep inside her, the demand still hanging in the quiet bedroom while the glow of the phone on the edge of the bed keeps reminding both of you that the secret is already out.