arlecchino with a flirty s/o but with a twist :3, Arlecchino gets fed up with it and fucks her until she can’t think straight :33
ouhhhh anon……….. i’m about to be so deranged—
cw. rough sex, breeding, overstimulation, dacryphilia, degradation (slut, whore), belly bulge
“still want to run that mouth of yours, darling?”
arlecchino’s voice is a haughty sneer from behind you as she keeps you face down in the pillows with a firm hand on your neck, while the other holds your hips up and in place for her to ruthlessly ram her cock in and out of your sopping cunt. you can only manage choked whimpers and moans as each vicious drive of her hips fills you up to the brim, her thick cock forcing your tight walls to open around her.
she’s wrung so many orgasms from you at this point, your thighs slick and glossy with your own cum. there’s a wet spot on the bed from where it’s trickled down your legs and from when she made you squirt. you don’t even remember how long ago that was. your body feels like a raw nerve—each touch she gives you burns like fire but you just can’t get enough.
“arle, m-more, please—“ you beg, and she scoffs, drawing back until only the tip remains inside before slamming forward, filling you brutally. it forces a howl of pleasure from your throat, and she tightens her grip on your neck.
“tch, such a greedy slut, aren’t you?” she growls, leaning down to whisper the words in your ear. her teeth scrape the shell of your ear and you shiver at the sensation. “always so desperate for a cock to fill you up, hm? was that why you felt the need to throw yourself at those men?”
you whine, doing your best to shake your head, though it’s difficult with the way she’s forcing you down against the sheets. she loosens her grip a little and stills her hips, giving you some respite for a moment.
“no?” she asks, with faux curiousity, and you don’t have to look at her to know that her lip is curled up into a look of disapproval. “are you sure?”
“don’t want theirs,” you manage to gasp out meekly, turning your head to look into her eyes. they’re dark, dangerous, but you find yourself drawn into them all the same. “jus’ want yours.”
arlecchino stills, but then the hand on your nape tightens and she’s shoving you even deeper into the sheets, and rutting into you like never before. her cock bullies your g-spot with each thrust of her hips. she grunts as your cunt tightens even more around her length, and the hand on your hip travels lower to your belly, feeling the way her dick makes your stomach swell ever so slightly before going down to your clit to rub harsh circles on the stiff nub.
“fuck, baby— wanted this cock so bad, hm?” she growls into your ear, “my pretty little whore.”
“y-yours!” you cry, fat tears starting to well in your eyes as your brain turns to mush in your skull with each drive of arlecchino’s hips. her front slaps against your ass, the sound of skin against skin ringing out around the room. anyone unfortunate enough to be walking by would surely know what was happening.
arlecchino grins at the sight of your glossy eyes, and in a brief moment of affection presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “shh, baby, just take it, yeah? such a good whore for me.”
you sink your teeth into the sheets below you, feeling the coil in your core wind tighter and tighter. arlecchino grunts above you, her relentless rhythm faltering, and you know she’s close. broken pleas for more and of her name slip from your lips, and it makes her shudder, jaw clenching.
“you’re mine, sweet thing,” she snarls, ghosting her teeth along the slope of your shoulder. “mine, only mine. ‘m gonna mark you from the inside with my cum, breed you full of my baby, hm?”
the thought flashes across your mind like a lightning bolt—a vision of yourself round and swollen with her child—and the coil in your core snaps. you cum with a scream, cunt clenching so tightly you nearly force arlecchino out as you squirt for a second time. arlecchino hisses, hips stuttering before she plants herself as deep as she can go and spills into you. you feel her release fill up ever corner of your cunt and even press against your womb.
you must have blacked out because when you come to again, you’re lying on your side with arlecchino next to you, panting, still buried balls-deep inside you. she presses soft kisses against the back of your neck, while her hand strokes your belly, over the bulge she forms in your stomach.
“my sweet girl,” she mumbles. “my love, my wife…” she whispers sweet words into your ear, gentle praises a far cry from how she’d fucked you just before. “you did well. rest, now. i’ll take care of you.”
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