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vultursvolans · 4 months ago

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— ★ 𝐔𝐍𝐖𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: after waiting for so long, alhaitham finally loses his virginity to you on his birthday

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: VIRGIN!alhaitham x FEM!reader, established relationship, there is some fluff sprinkled onto all this smut i promise, p0rn with plot, virginity loss (m), slightly more experienced reader, pet names ‘baby’ ‘love’, reader wears a skirt & dress, alcohol mention, handjob, masturbation (f), deepthroat, rough fucking, no protection, creampie, cowgirl, might be a little ooc. 5.7k wc (idk what happened) MDNI. 18+ only. | masterlist

𝐚/𝐧: a birthday piece! happy birthday alhaitham! 🎁

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Your boyfriend was a virgin.

And for most people, virginity was often a touchy subject. Still, when you started dating Alhaitham, you weren’t surprised by his indifference towards the topic. He never danced around it or became flustered when the subject of sex came up. During your first conversation about it, he didn’t fidget or sugarcoat; he simply took a sip of his coffee and stated, “I’ve never had sex before.” Then, after finishing his cup, he added, “Not for lack of opportunity. I just never prioritised it.”

There was no shame or awkwardness, just a fact laid bare between you. And, really, why would there be?

Sex wasn’t something he’d avoided out of fear or insecurity. To him, it was nothing but a passing thought.

At the time, you grazed over his humble boast because, of course, Alhaitham had opportunities. He was, by all objective measures, incredibly handsome, and you told him this very often as his girlfriend.

The scribe might’ve been notorious for being difficult to converse with, but people were still drawn to his appearance, whether he wanted them to be or not.

That conversation weighed more to you now. Not because of what he said but because of what it implied. Despite the passing interest others had in him and the potential experiences he could have had, he had waited. Not intentionally nor with some frivolous romantic ideal in mind, but simply because no one before you had ever made him want to.

As your relationship progressed, you discovered that contrary to popular belief, Alhaitham was still human (really, it’s a shock to some), and like any other human, he had needs that were managed with usual discretion (his hands). So while he had no qualms about admitting he was a virgin, he also never pretended to be entirely unaffected by the curse of morning wood or the challenge of dating someone who was totally his type and much more vivacious than he.

But when you turned him on (which wasn’t difficult), no matter how heated things got, they never went past a certain point. It wasn’t hesitation on his part, nor was it uncertainty on yours.

It might’ve been because he’d never done it before or maybe because it felt too significant to rush into. Either way, whenever things teetered on the edge of no return, one of you would always pull back. Every time it happened, it left you a little more restless than before.

It had started slow, as most things did.

Your first kiss with Alhaitham had been more curious than anything else. He always paid attention to detail, so he was careful in how he studied you. The more he kissed you, the more he adjusted to the newness of it. You could even taste the hesitance on him, but that had been months ago. Now, he’d memorise the way the shape of your lips fit against his, and kissing you felt as natural as breathing.

In the beginning, your make-out sessions had been tame. Nothing more than lazy, unhurried exchanges between reading breaks or in the fleeting moments before you parted from him. Uncaring for any responsibility he had prior, he would hold you close in his burly arms and take you in.

However, in time, those kisses evolved into something you had to be broken apart from.

His hands had also grown bolder. They would slide up your sides, paw at the curve of your spine, and settle on your hips to pull you closer. He noted the way you reacted to him—the way you tossed your head back when his fingers mapped your sensitive skin, the way your grip made home in his hair when his tongue delved deeper.

And you learned things about him, too.

You learned that even though the Alhaitham you first met had an air of mystery to him, there was something far more desperate lying dormant beneath that imaginary veil… lest his control slip. If you sucked on his lower lip, a groan would softly erupt from his mouth. If you allowed him to bury his face into the crook of your neck, the love bites he’d give you would feel much more erotic.

Then, his touches became scandalous over time. Alhaitham seemed to explore you more.

He started to kiss—no, lick along your jaw, then down your neck, sucking lightly at your pulse just to hear your breath stuttering. His hands, no longer satisfied with resting at your waist, began to push under your shirt time and time again, ghosting over your ribs, tracing the dip of your back, just to gauge a reaction to his touch.

Your body continued to hum with need long after you had settled on opposite sides of the sofa, swollen lips and skin warm.

Each encounter left you both embarrassingly sticky by the end of it, so you never bothered to admit you’d touched yourself to the thought of him long after he’d gone home. And neither did he.

An invisible string was about to snap, and the most recent time was the hardest to walk away from.

On that particular day, while you were nestled on his lap, Alhaitham had been kissing you with extra urgency—as if the taste of you wasn’t enough and every movement of your lips was drawing him into a slow-burning fire.

Each kiss was another spark, every touch a flicker of heat that spread and throbbed in the most wicked parts of you.

His hands traveled all over you, fingers that normally stayed at your ribs and waist started drifting lower so you sluggishly rolled your hips to match his rhythm, losing it at how hard he was growing beneath you.

Maybe it was because you’d worn a skirt that day, but you felt closer to him than ever. Having your legs sprawled across his lap and feeling what you assumed was the head of his cock prod your sweet spot made your body scream even more for him. So it didn’t help your case at all when he suddenly stilled his fingers under your skirt and gingerly kneaded the back of your clothed pussy. The touch was petal soft but enough to make you whine without permission.

“Holy shit,” your words came out in plumes.

You half-expected it to escalate then, but instead, he pulled away. A familiar pang settled in your chest. He didn’t do it out of regret—you knew that much, but all that racing intention now became idly slow.

“I’m sorry,” he said a little too quickly. It almost sounded awkward, but you were too busy trying to figure out what he was apologising for. It wasn’t like he’d done anything wrong.

“For what, exactly?” You asked.

Alhaitham took a moment to think.

“For not having more restraint.” his glossy eyes searched you, uncertain of what he wanted. “That felt impulsive.”

It was unintentional, but you’d never seen him look so innocent. Or vulnerable.

Tilting your head, you said with a chuckle, “If I’m ever caught complaining about my boyfriend not being able to keep his hands off me, alert the authorities because that’s not me.”

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

None of this was your fault either, of course. Stopping was as much of a crime to him as it was to you, but he quietly returned your laughter and timidly squeezed your hips as if to ground himself. “I just don’t want this to be something that happened because we couldn’t control ourselves.”

In other words, he wanted something planned. Maybe he had envisioned it unfolding differently.

Which was reasonable, you thought. It was his first time, not yours. And it wasn’t discouraging at all—that solid bulge pressing between your legs revealed enough about the effect you had on him. No part of him didn’t want to flip you over and fuck you senseless on that sofa but perhaps an impulsive make-out shouldn’t steer the wheel for something he held off for so long.

So, despite how badly you wanted him, you stopped. You waited. You told yourself the anticipation was half the fun. “You’re right. You’re right. Must you always be right?”

“Just a gift bestowed from the Archon.” Sarcasm, even when all the blood that should’ve been in his head had rushed to his cock. He watched you sigh. “It seems you don’t agree?”

“Well, if say I don’t, you could always ravish me until I do.” You smiled from ear to ear, satisfied when a pale shade of pink immediately dusted his cheeks.

“Stop that.”

Alhiatham was thankful when you rolled off his lap and collapsed beside him with a buoyant giggle.

Even then, he already missed the weight of you on his groin, and the phantom tingle from when he allowed himself to touch you over your underwear was still fresh on his fingers. He didn’t dare look at you right away, afraid that one glance at your pretty face, kiss-swollen lips, and the tremble in your thighs would set his skin alight all over again.

— — —

Remnants of Alhaitham’s birthday were scattered around your home. Half-finished slices of cake on abandoned plates. Few too many empty glasses litter the coffee table. The lingering scent of candles recently blown out.

Looking at the mess, you felt a wave of gratitude that the last batch of your friends had already come and gone.

Honestly, it was a good thing he chose to celebrate at your place. If he’d done it at his, there would’ve been an inevitable crowd, and he and Kaveh would’ve probably found themselves locked in a debate over something trivial like the spelling of a single word. The only thing to break it up would be the arrival of dawn.

Here, it was just the two of you. While you’d both enjoyed the company earlier, ending the night like this felt right.

As the street lamps outside flickered on to welcome the evening, Alhaitham lounged beside you. This was the most relaxed he’d looked all day, with one arm draped lazily over the back of the sofa and the other resting on his thigh with a new tome balanced loosely between his fingers. The dim light softened the sharp lines of his face, making him appear boyish as his sea-green eyes read the pages.

But he wasn’t really reading.

It was obvious by how his eyes were fixed on the same spot. His pupils were slightly dilated, and maybe he had the wine to blame. Or something else altogether.

You finally broke the silence, leaning on the armrest to reach for your own glass. “It’s still your birthday, you know?”

Alhaitham returned his attention to you, closing the tome you bought for him without marking his place. “Is there a statute of limitations on celebrating?”

Huffing a laugh, “Not exactly,” you said, swirling the wine in your glass before taking a sip. “But I’ve been thinking about your birthday gift.”

“Hm?” He replied, slightly confused. He’d thought you’d already given him everything earlier in the day.

“Just wondering if there’s anything else you might want.” You set your glass down and watched the dark liquid ripple. This was the perfect opportunity to bring up what had been on both of your minds.

“Oh?” He blinked at you. “Well, this book you sought was quite a rare find. I’m aware there are only two other copies. For that alone, I needn’t ask for more.”

“And if I told you that was only the appetiser?”

Alhaitham adamantly shook his head. “I’m not following.”

But you both knew that was false. The entire conversation was laced with implications, and this was a Haravatat genius you were speaking to. Nothing needed to be spelled out for him because you saw his throat bob with a subtle swallow. That alone told you he was already waging war with his thoughts.

Tonight felt different.

Aside from it being his literal birthday, ever since the morning you’d caught him eyeing your body on numerous counts.

One instance was when you conveniently sat across from him while your friends mingled, positioned so perfectly that he could see the triangle of underwear between your legs. It left little to the imagination, and when images flashed of him running his sticky tongue over your panties—he bit the inside of his cheeks in shame.

Another time was not too long ago when you adjusted the strap of your dress—he was sitting where he is now, and you had noticed his fixation on the exposed skin of your shoulder. When the flimsy strap irritatingly fell again, you pretended not to see him shifting his shorts by the crotch.

Something other than enticement was festering behind his gaze. It wasn’t outright staring, but you had an inkling you were being carefully watched.

Maybe assessed was the better word.

There was only so much pretend-reading he could do before it became obvious that your boyfriend was undressing you in his mind and using his tome as a silly cover. All of that told you he was ready.

He just needed a little nudge. A precious courtesy.

“Haitham, you’ve been thinking about it. Haven’t you?”

Alhaitham’s lips parted like he was about to deny it. But he didn’t. He wasn’t even sure he could. Between a sigh and a too-long pause, you were surprised when he admitted, “Of course I have. I’m not immune to… well, you.”

An intentional smile formed at the drop of that last word, and your cheeks immediately grew hot. “You look beautiful,” he continued, but then his tone dipped into something far more audacious. “I might be convinced you were trying to steal my thunder today.”

The sincerity behind his delivery made your heart pound like a drumline beneath your ribs.

When you dared slip your hand to his knee, his muscles reflexively twitched. He didn’t try to stop you as you slowly traced the outline of his leg.

“That honesty is going to get you in a lot of trouble, birthday boy.”

“Trouble?” He said with a knowing smirk. “I think I’m already in enough trouble for tonight, don’t you?” You let him take your wrist to his mouth, and he suckled above your pulse, soft and slow.

Goosebumps danced across your arm before you stood up.

Alhaitham tracked every step you made, and his burning hands instinctively moved to your waist when you stopped between his legs. As you leaned down, he almost shut his eyes, expecting a kiss. “What do you mean? I’m terribly innocent.”

The heat of his touch seared through your dress, and you didn’t falter when he started bunching up the fabric.

Alhaitham, he was different.

Unlike the temporary touches of almost-lovers, every place his hands explored left a trail of fire in their wake. He always held you like the space between you was something he could not tolerate. Everything had to be met. Tongue. Hands. Body. Mind.

Alhaitham loved you. Deeply. Utterly. In ways that contradicted his nature. It was neither measured nor composed, only barbaric and all-encompassing.

And credit must be due to you for being the most patient person in the world.

“So,” you said quietly, brushing away those unruly greys that tickled his forehead. “Do you feel like this time is rushed?”

His long fingers tightened around you, answering your question before he spoke. Whatever hesitation he felt had apparently already passed. “No, this is perfect.”

As he looked up at you through those curtain of long lashes, an indulgent question had accidentally slipped out of your mouth: “How often do you picture yourself having your way with me?”

A muscle in his jaw ticked. Clearly defeated by your feathery voice, he exhaled through his nose, almost jaded, “Constantly."

For some reason, you were still caught by surprise. Even if it lasted for a sliver of a second, when his admiration for you felt too good to be true, sometimes you thought it all a farce. But you were wrong.

"In fact, I’m thinking about it right now," he continued.

Without needing any more reassurance than that, you closed the distance. “Do you mind?” You asked over his lips.

“Not at all,” he said like he was granting you a wish.

One tender kiss bled into another, then another, until his tongue started rolling over yours, swallowing your gasps in between. Then it turned into something wet and visceral. Your body wilted each time they collided, but when his teeth sunk into your bottom lip, a riot of sensations gathered between your thighs.

Fuck, you swore internally.

Alhaitham may be a virgin, but he sure didn’t kiss like one.

Still standing, you snaked your arms around his neck and combed at the ends of his hair. No matter how often you’d done this, the sound of his grunts always drowned out the rest of the world.

Your lips broke apart for only a moment when you were forced to find air. There were too many annoying layers between the two of you, so the cycle of kissing and never crossing that line was forever broken when you pulled on his shirt, “Take this off.”

Letting you go, even for a second, was unbearable, so when he lifted his arms to rid himself of the barrier, he greedily chased another kiss. The fabric dragged over his torso, revealing inch by inch of warm, silky skin stretched taut over muscle, and as soon as the shirt was gone, you traced the broad plane of his chest.

From this view, you wonder if he was thinking about how many times he had imagined this moment. How many nights he had stared at the ceiling, picturing your hands on him just like this?

“Nervous?” You asked, following your palm over the firm ridges of his abdomen as you connected lips again, pecking them softly this time like a butterfly kissing the edge of a blooming flower.

“Impossible.” Alhaitham relaxed his shoulders and pulled blindly at your waist. You looked so pretty—if anything, he was excited to fuck you. “I’m in good hands.”

Your lips trailed downward, over his jaw, his throat, ghosting his uncharted collarbones before moving even lower. Cushions collapsed to the floor as he began to fray beneath you, his body keening toward your open-mouth kisses no matter how much he tried to hold himself together.

“Baby—” he rasped. Your knees wobbled at his sweet call. The quietest groan escaped his mouth, and you felt it reverberate against your lips where they hovered just above his navel. His scent was richer here—clean but muskier, and engulfing your senses to the point of dizziness.

Sinking to your knees, your tongue followed the dark path of hair that disappeared beneath his shorts while your hands nimbly pushed at his growing tent, “—Fuck,” he sighed, screwing his eyes shut. It pulsed involuntarily against the restraint, and already, a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. Your heart was racing; the size of it felt even bigger in your hand.

You toyed at the waistband. “Haitham, tell me if you want to stop, okay?”

He nodded, slumping back into the sofa. Sure, but he doesn’t think he will. His lack of words made you wonder if he’d actually heard you.

You palmed his bulge one last time before pulling everything down and immediately, his cock sprung against his stomach, giving it a good slapping sound while you ogled at the sheer size. And weight.

It was so much prettier than you’d imagine—not too veiny, plump and pink at the tip, slightly curved, and already glistening with precum under the hues of evening light. A handful of beauty marks dotted the underside of his shaft, which would only help you out in the future when you had to decide which parts of him you wanted to kiss first. It might’ve been the prettiest thing you’d ever seen.

Rubbing your thumb over the tip, you peered up at him, and as expected, “Oh…” he rolled his eyes back, lulling himself in the immediate pleasure. At that moment, he knew fucking his fist in the dead of night would never feel the same again. Not when they can be hugged by your soft, velvety hands.

Alhaitham’s body jittered under you with each small stroke along his length. Another fat ball of precum dribbled over your knuckles and made it extra slippery—he was so hard, he could barely look at you through his drowsy eyes.

“Do you like how this feels, baby?”

His feelings wavered between bucking for more friction or letting you dictate his ruin. “I- ah- love it. Keep going… Please…” Either way, by the time this was over, Alhaitham was going to walk away a new man.

His cock was so heavy, so wide in your hand that you briefly imagined it training your hole open. You desperately clenched around nothing—suddenly it was your turn to feel needy, and as a result, your strokes became even faster as you thought about him stuffing you with it instead.

Each languid pump chipped away at his resolve, but it was you who was beginning to lose control. Your free hand couldn’t hold still for any longer, so they snaked to the throbbing heat that had been building between your legs for too long. The first roll of circles over your clit sent a sharp jolt up your spine. “Mmmm,” you were already so wet, your slick drenched your fingers within seconds.

Alhaitham's thighs twitched at the sound of you. That was a moan. A real fucking moan. A multitude of things could turn him on but watching his girlfriend play with herself and moaning above his cock made him spasm in his spot. He was begging for more, even if he couldn’t form the words.

“Ahh, Haitham…” you mewled his name softly as you slid two fingers inside your sopping entrance. Without waiting any longer, you spat on the leaking tip as a courtesy warning before taking the entire length in your mouth all at once.

“God…” Alhaitham groaned, drawn out like the sensation alone could tear him apart. He could’ve jumped out of his seat if not for the vice grip he had on the sofa, his knuckles white from holding onto it like a lifeline. The inside of your mouth was so warm, your tongue so blissfully foreign and you felt him stiffen up even more when you sloppily sucked and popped off with a messy slurp.

“This definitely... isn't your first time,” His voice was rough with lust.

Every tantalising lick was written off as proof of your experience.

The praise, while indirect, made your cunt clamp around your moving fingers. You hummed, dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock before pulling back with another lewd pop, “No,” you casually admitted, licking a stray tear of precum from your lips. “But it’s my first time taking something so big.”

“No need to flatter me,” he murmured softly, lifting your dripping chin with a single finger. “You’re already doing enough.”

But damn, he thought. If that were true, he’d be the one to stretch you further than anyone else.

After returning your lips around him, he unexpectedly brought his hand to the back of your head.

This time, he didn’t want to sit back. “Slowly…” he sucked in a breath. “I… want to try something.”

Alhaitham apparently grew some confidence of his own, which made your fingers work even faster inside yourself. Your lips sank lower and lower. Throat tightening as his thick cock tunneled its way through—

“Mmph—!!” Your sudden yelp was muffled when his mushroom tip nudged the back of your throat. The vibration of it made him buckle his knees beside you.

Oh, he was weak for you. And he knew it.

“Ugh— Look at you…” he groaned through gritted teeth. Still, despite the newfound confidence, he was losing the battle fast. He had buckled so hard, he was worried he’d already cum but he was relieved when you gagged and withdrew, leaving only strings of saliva connecting to his fat length.

That was enough to tell him he couldn’t hold it off anymore.

Alhaitham could barely think straight. His cock was twitching, aching, still glossy from your mouth, and somehow standing taller than when all of this started.

“Come here,” he pleaded, and now his heart pounded because it was finally happening.

His eyes were hazy when he hoisted you up, catching you in his lap to taste himself on your tongue. The kiss was feral and teeth-clashing, and the curl of your name kept being whispered again and again between breaths.

His hands wasted no time, sliding down your body, comfortably hiking up your dress while he met his cock with your entrance. Even with your underwear in the way, you felt just how girthy he was and squeezed around the head as much as your flimsy panties allowed.

“Haitham~” you whimpered, continuing to grind on him.

Between his own rolling of his hips, he eagerly helped you tug your dress over your head. Then you hurriedly removed your underwear and returned to his lap.

For a brief moment, he just stared.

His jaw went slack. His chest rose and fell slowly.

It was a showcase of your bare body, your soft tummy, your sweat-stricken tits, and your exposed pussy.

Suddenly, you felt shy, but he reached out with surprising gentleness, smoothing his palm over your waist, then up to your chest.

“I know I keep repeating myself, but seriously,” he hushed, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, making you shiver. “You’re beautiful.”

He looked at you like you were something divine and overcome, your lips crashed against his.

A guttural sound escaped his throat as he kissed you back with just as much hunger.

“I love you,” you whispered to him. Another twist of your tongue. I love you. Another hand tangled in his hair. I love you. Another peek at your loving boyfriend, eyes shut and kissing you so tenderly like it was the only thing he knew. I love you.

His hand slipped between your legs, fingers parting the opening where you were dripping for him. If you hadn’t known him at all, you would’ve never guessed this was his first time. Perhaps preparing for this really paid off in the end.

Your legs trembled around his hand, but it wasn’t enough. You wanted more. The need clawed at you.

His hand gripped your putty thighs, forcing them open as he stared at the pretty mess.

Alhaitham flicked his gaze back to yours. “I love you, too,” his voice was hoarse. “And I need to be inside you.” It was then you understood why puppy eyes worked on people. No argument could ever shield him away when he pleaded for you like that. It would be like kicking a puppy in the most literal sense.

You gave him a nod of approval. It’s okay.

He exhaled as he positioned himself. The downright weight of it jerking against your clit made you whimper. You couldn’t help but rock into it, circling his shaft with your juices while he was on the cusp of shattering.

Finally, he lined the swollen head at your entrance, and a sharp gasp left you as he slowly pushed in, stretching you apart like all those times you fantasised in the privacy of your bedroom, but this was much, much better.

Inch by inch, your walls latched onto him and—

“Shit—” Alhaitham cursed under his breath.

Nothing has ever felt so warm or soft. Or all-consuming. His entire vision was a blur. There was no doubt he was already painting a clear, sticky mess on your walls.

Your nails sank into his meaty arms, his name tumbled from your lips as he gradually slotted himself completely inside you. His groan was so deep and wrecked that it made you tremble around him even more.

Your legs tightened at his side, urging him deeper. “T-Thoughts?” You asked, barely. It remained a mystery how you stayed teasing even as pleasure threatened to steal your words away.

“You’re so… tight,” he managed to breathe, thrusting up experimentally. His head dropped to your shoulder as he relished in the wet heat of you wrapped around him. “Better than my hands."

"Better than I ever imagined, actually." A strained chuckle left him. “And I imagined a lot.”

Another slow thrust. His fingers embedded themselves around your waist, possessive, obsessive, and he buried his face in your neck, breathing you in.

You smiled even though you knew he couldn’t see. “You don’t have to hold back.”

Your cute encouragement made him snap.

He lifted you slightly before slamming you down on his hips, plunging as far as he could. Right as he did, you arched your back and struggled to find your bearings. The sound of your jutted cries echoed freely in the living room, only for it to be swallowed by his muttering against your skin—

“You’re perfect.”

A deep thrust, much harder this time.

“I can’t believe you’re mine.”

His teeth scraped against your neck.

And then he really started fucking you.

Every bounce punctured all the right spots, and you could only whine while rivers of sweat glued your bodies together. You tried to keep up with him, but he was so fervent with his hips that your mind went cloudy.

More often than not, you tend to forget how strong your boyfriend is, but you’ll never need a reminder after this. Not with how easily his large hands guided you up and down his throbbing cock. You were helpless against the feverish way he moved you.

Plap. Plap. Plap. Each wet slap of your fleshy ass against his thighs sent a violent shudder through him, decorating his skin with flushed, red marks where you landed.

Who knew Alhaitham could be so obscene and filthy?

“I can see why—people—enjoy this,” was all he could muster you as deliciously gripped him. Every word punched out of him from the force of your tight cunt.

However, as good as it felt, most of his enjoyment came from looking at you.

“Mhm…!” you babbled, brain foggy and hands abandoning his shoulders to roll your sensitive nipples between your fingers, twisting and tugging and arching your back so your tits were right in his face. “But are you—?” You tried to ask between ragged moans, but he cut you off with a snap of his hips.

He’d never seen you in such a messy state, “Are you fucking kidding me?” He was nearly offended at the implication that he wasn’t. How could he not be? He was buried to the hilt and drinking in every filthy little sound that spilled from your lips.

He wanted to engrave the image of this memory into his mind forever.

The creak of the sofa legs as they scraped back and forth on your floor; the squelch of your soaking pussy; your arousal smearing the base of his shaft, running down his legs with every feverish roll.

Even like this, even while he was losing every last shred of innocence, his mind was already latching onto something else—

“I’m already looking forward to doing this again…”

Alhaitham, who fucking loved you, was also going to love fucking you.

Oh, and the toe-curling sensation of his balls smacking the back of your pussy intensified.

For each erratic push, your battered clit rubbed even more against his pubic bone. Your eyes were starting to drop, and your voice only came in erotic moans. “Baby, please…” You’ve adjusted to the stretch by now, but you’ll never get used to how you can feel every curve or ridge mind-meltingly dragging inside you. “Don’t stop—”

He wishes he could just record the way you coo at him like that, because your honeyed tone damn near made him bust on the spot.

“F-Fuckk-Ngh… Love, I’m close,” he groaned, forehead falling against yours as his hips stuttered. His hungry, feral eyes—wild, desperate, blown back with lust searched yours, now certain of what he wanted.

“Inside,” you panted, cradling the back of his head with your arms. “I bought a contraceptive tonic… You can cum inside.”

Alhaitham froze, for just a second.

But with your permission, he lost whatever fragile thread of control he had left. Using the last of his strength, he clumsily wrapped himself around your waist and attacked your G-spot over and over.

“Quickly,” you urged him, “Because I’m gonna—!” A feeling in your stomach coiled before you could finish your sentence. With his hips rolling at an angle, everything you were holding together finally broke apart. Your ears abruptly rang, and your vision went entirely white, as if months’ worth of pent-up energy was gushing out of you.

You pushed through the untangling in your gut, feeling everything all at once as your orgasm obliterated your senses. The downpour left you mewling, writhing, and spasming around him like a tightening knot. You've cummed to the thought of him but you always felt like something was missing.

Nothing but desperate moaning and the crying of his name met his ears while you blissfully rode him out.

A harsh thrust later did it for him, too.

His merciless rhythm shattered as he rutted inside one last time, a guttural groan ripping from his throat like all the air was being punched from his lungs. “Hah—I’m cumming!” His cock pulsed violently as he came, hot ropes of ivory spilling deep inside you, with him losing focus after each shudder of his hips.

So much of it was already oozing out of you despite how tight you still were, and you saw the ruin it brought on him. He was beautiful with his brows pinched tight and strands of damp silver sticking to his forehead. Every flex of his toned arms and chest showcased the primal strength beneath his elegance.

Alhaitham whimpered—it was barely audible as he slumped against your chest. He clung to you, panting, hot breath fanning your shoulder as he pumped out the last tremors of his release. His balls tightened for the final time as they emptied inside you.

Neither of you moved. Just sticky heat, layers upon layers of sweat, and the aftershocks pulsing through your trembling bodies.

Then, slowly, his hands fell to his sides.

“…That was…” he started, feeling like his mind was still trying to piece itself together. His body practically surrendered against the sofa.

You swiped a thumb over his jaw, smiling. “Yeah.”

A beat passed.

When Alhaitham lifted his head, blinking at you, completely softened by the afterglow, it hit you.

Your boyfriend wasn’t a virgin anymore.

divider: @/adornedwithlight

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