"I...I can't feel my legs..." I panted, voice wrecked, throat raw, hips still twitching from the aftershock. I ran a trembling hand through my hair, trying to steady myself, still pinned between the mirror and his chest—his cum slowly dripping out of me, thick and warm between my thighs.

Ryder didn’t answer right away.

He just looked at me.

Smirking. Possessive. Still hard.

His cock—still fucking hard.

God help me.

He pulled out slow, and I whimpered at the loss, at how empty I suddenly felt, how my walls clenched down around nothing.

Then he dropped me.

Not rough—no. But deliberate.

I collapsed to my knees with a weak cry,...