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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 17 days ago

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Ride Wit’ Me - Jhea

WARNINGS: Jhea getting absolutely filthy inside a Tesla Self-Drive rental 😈 Expect traffic delays, leather skirts, public(ish) play, intense finger penetration, dirty talk, riding, creampie, and recording kink 🎥💦 Includes possessive praise (“that’s my girl”), ass smacking 🍑, and Rhea showing the camera exactly how full she got 👀

people id film for: @spiicii @acknowledge-reigns @minteagalaxea @love4brutality @maineventabbey @cheappop @isabella-2025

The Enterprise parking lot was already too damn bright for how irritated Jey was. His arms were flung out, voice rising with every syllable.

“Bruh, we booked the Yukon two weeks ago! Y’all had one job!”

The guy behind the desk looked like he wanted to melt into the asphalt. “Sir, I understand, but we had a shortage this morning and—”

“Nah, you don’t understand,” Jey cut in, stepping forward. “We gotta’ use this car for the next three days. I’m not tryna be crammed up in no clown car, especially not with—”

“Joshhhhhhh,” Rhea drawled from the curb, dragging the last syllable like silk through his ears. He turned.

She was leaned up against a metal pole, arms crossed over her chest, a bored twist in her mouth. That leather crop top was clinging to her like a second skin, and the matching skirt didn’t even try to pretend it wasn’t for his benefit. And those damn boots.

Those all black platform boots.

The ones he told her made his brain shut off the first time she wore them backstage.

“It’s fine,” she said, her Australian accent curling around the word like heat. “Let’s just get the robot car.”

“Rhea…” he started, but she was already walking, those boots clacking against the pavement like a metronome set to make him insane.

The Tesla sat in a reserved spot, sleek and smug like it knew it wasn’t supposed to be there. The tag said Self Drive Enabled. Of course it did.

She opened the passenger door and glanced at him over her shoulder. “Unless you’d rather keep arguing with Retail Ken over there.”

Retail Ken coughed.

Jey dragged a hand down his face, mumbled something about needing divine patience, and grabbed their bags.

“You got attitude today,” he muttered, sliding into the driver’s seat.

Rhea looked over, buckled in, and grinned. “Not yet.”

—

They had just hit the interstate headed for Boulder. Estimated time: one hour, clean. Not too bad.

Fifteen minutes in, it all fell apart.

Brake lights stretched for miles like a river of red. The car’s center screen chirped cheerfully, calculating a new arrival time.

“Delay: 2 hours. Estimated arrival: 4:46 PM.”

Jey stared at the screen like it insulted The Bloodline.

“This is bullshit,” he snapped, smacking the steering wheel. The Tesla didn’t flinch, just hummed quietly like it was meditating.

“I know, baby,” Rhea said, head tilted back against the headrest. Her fingers tapped against her thigh, her voice low and gentle now, like she’d shifted gears too.

She looked over at him, one brow raised. “Want me to take over?”

“Nah, I’m good,” he muttered, but the Tesla disagreed. The wheel turned itself gently as traffic lurched forward, gliding the car forward like it was water on glass.

Self-drive mode.

Jey blew out a breath, slumping a little in his seat. “I hate this quiet-ass car.”

“’Cause it don’t sound like your Benz?” she teased, the corner of her mouth twitching.

“Nah,” he said, glancing at her legs, how that tight leather skirt rode up when she shifted. “’Cause it’s too quiet. I can hear you thinking.”

Rhea smirked. “You sure that’s all you’re hearing?”

He gave her a look.

The kind of look that skimmed along her body, dragged heat in its wake, then settled on her lips before looking back to the road and now being able to pull out his phone. He unintentionally gave her that kind of look that said you’re the reason I’m about to lose my mind in this car.

The car crawled forward, inch by inch.

Rhea shifted in her seat, her legs crossed and recrossed, leather creaking with every lazy movement. Her fingers tapped against her thigh again, this time slower.

She glanced at the dash. Then at him.

“How long can you keep it on self-drive?”

Jey didn’t look up from his phone. “I don’t know, Rhea. It’s got, like… sensors and cameras and shit. Don’t need me at all.”

He now scrolled through TikTok, completely absorbed, until…

“Oh, Josh…”

Something in her voice made him lift his eyes.

That’s when he saw her fingers, lazily toying with the waistband of her skirt. Not quite pulling it down. Not quite leaving it alone either.

“Rhea…” His voice came out tighter than he wanted.

She didn’t stop. Just kept playing with the edge of the leather, dragging her nail along the seam. “It’s not like you’re driving,” she said innocently.

His phone slipped just a little in his grip. “You wildin’ right now.”

Her head tilted, lips curling. “Maybe.”

Then she slid her hand between her thighs.

Not far. Just enough for him to see her fingertips disappear.

Jey’s breath caught as the Tesla kept driving.

Except… it wasn’t anymore.

His grip on the phone tightened. His other hand flexed on his thigh.

“You tryna start somethin’, girl?” he asked, voice low.

Rhea didn’t even blink. “I’m just trying to pass the time.”

Jey leaned back, jaw tight, trying to not seem interested. Trying being the key word.

Because in his peripheral vision, Rhea had gone full tease.

Her legs had spread now, just enough for the hem of that skirt to ride up indecently. Her black boots were planted wide on the floor mat. One hand was braced on the armrest, the other dipped beneath the leather, unhurried.

He could hear it.

The faintest sound of wetness.

Her fingers moving with practiced ease while she never once broke eye contact.

Jey swallowed hard. His pupils had became slightly dilated. He could feel his hardness clawing at his restraint.

The Tesla kept gliding, obedient and smooth, its speakers playing old school R&B like this was all totally normal.

Rhea tilted her head back, lips parting just slightly. Her eyes fluttered closed, one knee rising higher.

Jey’s voice was ragged. “You really gon’ make me watch you fuck yourself in this tight ass car?”

“Mhm,” she hummed, breathless. “You said you weren’t driving.”

She gasped suddenly, just a little, and he saw the flash of her middle finger curl deep inside her, wrist twisting slow.

He groaned and shifted in his seat. His jeans were suddenly not forgiving.

“Fuck, Rhea…”

“Josh…” she breathed, eyes heavy again. “Tell me not to.”

He didn’t.

Because he couldn’t.

“You gonna sit there,” she whispered, voice dripping, “or you gonna help me come?”

The car kept driving.

Jey stared at her for a second, chest rising and falling like he just went a few rounds in the ring.

“Fuck it..” Then he unbuckled quickly.

The seatbelt snapped back into place, but he was already leaning over the center console. He reached across her, hands sure and commanding, adjusting her seat controls with one hand while the other slid up her thigh. The leather seat reclined just enough.

“Josh…” she exhaled, lashes fluttering. “What’re you—”

“Shhh,” he muttered, eyes locked on hers, voice nothing but grit and hunger. “Don’t worry about it.”

She didn’t get a chance to say more. His big hands gripped her thighs and spread them. The way she smelled was overwhelming now. No filter in the car could contain that sweetness she had rolling off her in waves.

She shivered when she felt his breath against her pussy, his beard grazing her inner thighs.

“God damn,” he whispered. “You’re dripping for me, baby…”

Then he ducked under her skirt.

Her hands flew to the armrests as his tongue met her center. It was slow at first, then deeper, firmer, each pass of his mouth driving her higher. His grip on her thighs tightened, holding her down as she bucked into his face, his groans rumbling into her like thunder.

“J-Josh—fuck!” she gasped, her boots planted hard against the floor as her whole body tensed.

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t even slow down.

The Tesla took another gentle left turn.

Inside the car, pornhub search engine: “Pussy Eating in a Tesla.”

Outside the car?

Just another car in traffic.

Jey’s tongue traced shapes against her soaked pussy, unhurried, like he had all the time in the world to eat her. And he did. Two hours of traffic? He was about to make every second count.

Rhea’s hands had slid down to his head, fingers tangled in his mullet, gripping tight whenever his tongue circled her clit just right.

“F-fuck, Josh…” she moaned, her voice caught between pleasure and disbelief. “You’re gonna make me—”

“Nah,” he murmured against her, “Not yet.”

Then he slipped a finger inside.

Just one.

Rhea arched so hard her boot banged against the door.

Jey chuckled, devilish, then added a curl to his finger as he kept licking, his tongue dragging across her clit in strokes. His finger moved in and out, slow at first, letting her clench around him, letting her body pulse with the pressure that kept building and building.

He watched her and saw the way her body jerked with every flick, how her breath stuttered, how her thighs trembled when he added a second finger.

“Josh…” she begged, breathless now, almost frantic. “Please…”

But he just groaned into her, fingers stroking that spot deep inside, mouth sucking her clit with enough finesse to make her sob.

He moved like he knew her … like he could map her out blindfolded and still suck her soul out of her pussy.

She was panting now, writhing, tears pooling in the corners of her eyes.

“Not yet,” he whispered again, dragging his tongue slowly down before licking back up with devastating pressure. “You’re not there yet.”

Her legs locked around his shoulders, thighs shaking, her whole body trembling on the edge of something dangerous.

And Jey? He was smiling against her heat.

Like a man who’d found heaven in traffic.

Rhea was falling apart.

Her thighs were shaking around his shoulders, leather skirt bunched up at her waist, those boots planted wide, bracing for the next wave… and the next… and the next.

But Jey didn’t let up.

Didn’t rush.

His fingers were deep inside her now: two of ‘em, slow at first, but now?

Now they were driving into her with rhythm.

Curl. Press. Stroke.

Again. And again.

His tongue never left her clit, lips wet with her juices as he licked figure-eights against that swollen nerve while his fingers moved deeper; long, relentless thrusts that made her arch, made her sob.

Her voice cracked. “J-Josh—oh my god—”

“You feel that, baby?” he growled, his lips brushing against her pussy. “You hear how wet you are for me?”

She whimpered… her senses were overwhelmed.

“I said do you feel it?” he asked again, driving his fingers in harder now, deeper, twisting them just right so the pads of his fingertips pressed right against that spot inside her that made her break.

Her hands flew to the ceiling handle above her, gripping tight. Her mouth dropped open in a silent scream as he moved his fingers faster, his knuckles slapping lightly against her, wet noises filling the tight space.

Jey looked up at her from between her legs, his curls damp with sweat, his mouth shining, his pupils showing lust.

“Not gonna let you come yet,” he groaned. “You’re gonna sit here and take it. Gonna ride my fingers until I say you can fall apart.”

“Please…” she choked, her whole body shuddering with need. “Josh—fuck, please—”

His fingers pumped faster, rubbing right against that devastating spot inside.

She screamed.

Jey leaned in close, licking his lips.

“Tell me you’re mine,” he whispered, stroking her mercilessly.

“Yours—” she gasped, voice almost gone.

“Louder.”

“I’m yours, fuck, I’m—!”

But he didn’t let her come.

Not yet.

He just smirked against her thigh, slowed his fingers to an agonizing pace, and watched her twitch beneath him.

“Good girl,” he whispered. By now she was panting. Sweaty, flushed, ruined but unsatisfied.

Her legs twitched around the seat, wetness dripping down the inside of her thighs, and just as her body braced for release… Jey pulled his fingers out.

She let out a broken cry, one hand shooting down to chase the pressure he ripped away, but he caught her wrist in an iron grip.

“Nuh uh,” he muttered, dark and calm. “Not yet.”

Then—casually, like he didn’t just fingerfuck her into a full-body tremble—he wiped his hand on his hoodie, climbed off her, and slid back into the driver’s seat.

Like nothing happened.

Like his jeans weren’t tented painfully with how hard he was.

She blinked at him, chest rising in shallow breaths, lips parted in disbelief. “You’re kidding me…”

He turned to her, jaw locked, eyes dark.

“You want it?” he asked, voice low enough to melt bone. “Then come take what’s yours.”

That snapped something in her.

She shifted quick, not even bothering to fix her skirt as she climbed over the center console and into his lap. The Tesla chimed softly at the movement, but they didn’t care. The car could drive itself. This was her turn now.

She straddled him, breath shaky, heart pounding, wetness soaking the front of his jeans.

Her hands moved to his belt to undo the buckle. She then unzipped his fly, pulling the fabric apart, her knuckles brushing over the length of him. He was so hard it pulsed beneath her touch.

He groaned, low and hungry. “Fuck…”

Her lips curved into a wicked smile.

“You said take it,” she whispered, lifting her hips.

“That’s what I’m doing..”

Rhea didn’t ease down: she sank.

One slide until she was seated fully on him, both of them gasping at the stretch, the heat, the filth of it all. Her walls clenched around him like a holy grail grip, wet and needy, her thighs trembling against his hips.

Skin against skin.

No barriers.

Just heat and tension and the obscene sound of her taking him raw.

Jey’s head fell back against the seat. “Shit, Rhea—”

She braced her hands on his chest, leaned in close. “Aren’t you glad we took the robotic car?” she whispered in his ear.

He let out a strangled laugh as he nodded.

Then, as she began to grind, he looked toward the touchscreen console, eyes glassy, breath uneven and muttered, “Can I record?”

She looked down at him, eyes fucked out. And she grinned. “Let’s put on a show.”

That was all he needed.

Jey fumbled to open his camera app, switching it to video, hand trembling slightly as he angled it behind her. Her skirt was still bunched high, so he tapped her thigh. “Lift it.”

Rhea reached back with one hand and hiked the skirt up over her ass; bare, flushed, and already bouncing lightly with each thrust.

She picked up the pace.

And the camera caught everything.

The slap of skin. The stretch. The way she dropped down, full and creamy, taking every inch of him like she was starved.

The way her hips moved just right.

The Tesla throbbed softly, gliding down the highway like it wasn’t the setting for a full-blown porno.

The slap-slap-slap of her riding him echoed through the cabin, mixing with their moans, the wet sound of her pussy coating his dick, and the filthy praise he growled through gritted teeth.

“Fuck, baby… You hear that?” he groaned. “Listen to what you do to me…”

Rhea looked over her shoulder, hair clinging to her damp skin, eyes locking with the lens. Then she arched, lifted herself up just to slam back down harder, making both of them cry out.

“That the shot you wanted?” she panted, lustfully. “You getting all this, Daddy?”

Jey could barely breathe. “Hell yeah, I am…”

And the Tesla?

Still driving.

Still recording.

Still carrying two wrestlers deep into the filthiest delay of their lives.

Jey’s free hand was gripping her hip so tight it’ left fingerprints. His head was tilted back, mouth open and glazed with sex.

“Shit— Rhea… baby, I’m close…”

She didn’t slow down.

If anything, she rode him harder.

Her ass slapped against his thighs, her wetness drenching both of them, every bounce making the car rock ever-so-slightly despite its sleek suspension. She was loud, unapologetically filthy, moaning right into his face as she leaned down and whispered:

“Yeah? You gonna come for me, Daddy? Gonna fill me up?”

His hand fisted in her skirt, practically shaking.

“You feel that?” she panted, rolling her hips just right, slow then slam, slow then slam, the rhythm cruel and delicious. “You feel how this pussy’s squeezin’ the fuck outta you?”

“Rhea, fuck—” he groaned.

“Don’t hold it,” she hissed, grinding down hard and deep. “Let go. Fill me up. Make a fuckin’ mess.”

That did it.

Jey’s whole body jerked, hips snapping up as he came hard, groaning loud and guttural into her neck. His cock throbbed deep inside her, pulse after pulse as his release flooded her.. or overflowed her.

She gasped when she felt it, her body tightening around him in waves, milking every last drop.

They stayed there for a beat, shaking, panting, her forehead resting on his shoulder.

Then Jey reached back, lifted the phone just enough and said:

“Show the camera, baby. Show ’em how Daddy filled you up.”

Rhea smirked, lifted her hips slow… and there it was.

His cum, thick and creamy, leaking from her pussy, glistening against her thighs.

She looked over her shoulder at the lens, winked, then dropped back down on his cock with a wet slap, making more spill out.

Jey groaned again, head tilted back like she just fucked him all over again.

He reached up and smacked her ass hard, and said, “That’s my girl.”

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acute-crashout-jeyuso · 2 months ago

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D*ck U Down..

Jhea

Requested by: @astrikmoon

⚠️ Warnings: this one-shot contains explicit sexual content, rough sex, dirty talk, light degradation, use of “daddy” titles, creampie, squirting, possessive behavior, minor impact (furniture damage), and emotionally tender aftermath. Intended for mature audiences only (18+). Please do not interact if you’re underage. NSFW.😇

bfflsssss: @spiicii @acknowledge-reigns @cheappop @love4brutality @maineventabbey

AN: last request. Gotta focus on my long fics now. It was fun while it lasted 🤣🤣🤣🤣

The room smelled like champagne and body spray, and the air was riddled with the high of victory. Rhea’s gear was half-hanging off the chair, one boot still unlaced, and the glow of the city lit the edge of the hotel curtains like something out of a movie.

She sat on the floor in one of Jey’s oversized tees, legs crossed, holding a red solo cup full of whatever tequila mix he made.

Jey was leaned back against the bed, championship belt beside him, wearing grey sweatpants and a smug grin. “You realize we both just pulled off the biggest fuckin’ wins of our careers and we’re drinking outta cups like we still on the indies.”

Rhea smirked. “That’s how you know it’s real.”

They clinked cups. Drank. Laughed. The kind of laugh that comes from months of road trips, inside jokes, and being each other’s emergency contact when shit got too loud in the locker room.

She winced mid-laugh and twisted her body. “Fuck. My lower back is wrecked.”

Jey’s brows pulled in. “That same spot from SNME?”

“Yep. Same one. Like clockwork.” She sipped again. “Every big match, that bitch flares up.”

He watched her for a second, something shifting behind his eyes. “You want me to try and work it out?”

Rhea blinked. “You massage now?”

He shrugged. “Had to learn. Jon gets all kinds of tension from traveling. Seph’ too. I ain’t bad at it.”

There was a pause.

Long enough for the music on the speaker to switch songs.

“You don’t have to,” she said, voice a little lower.

Jey leaned forward. “I didn’t ask if I had to.”

Another pause.

“…Okay,” she said finally, setting her cup down. “You can try.”

He motioned for her to lie on the bed, and she did, belly-down, pressing her cheek into the pillow. The moment he straddled her thighs to get into position, everything in her body lit up.

She didn’t say anything. Neither did he.

His hands were big, warm, rough from years of ring work, and when he started working into her lower back, her breath stopped. He didn’t press too hard at first, just worked in slow circles, thumbs easing the knots out of her muscle.

“Tell me if I hit a nerve,” he muttered, his voice deeper now.

“You already are,” she said before she could stop herself.

Jey froze for half a second—but then his hands slowed, softened, pressing into her hips. “You good?”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “Yeah, I just—forgot how good touch feels.”

His hands trailed lower, just above where her waistband started. “We never crossed that line before,” he said, like he was checking.

She turned her head slightly. “Maybe we should’ve.”

Jey leaned down so his chest just barely touched her back. “You sure about that, Rhea?”

“Yeah..”

Jey’s fingers pressed down her spine, then slowly fanned out along her sides, grazing just under the swell of her ribs. The pads of his thumbs flirted with the edge of her chest, light enough to feel but not enough to claim.

Rhea’s breathing was elevated, but she kept her face buried in the pillow, biting the inside of her cheek.

He moved lower, dragging his palms along her hips and down the curve of her ass, kneading gently.

“You’re poking me,” Rhea muttered into the pillow, voice low and mischievous.

Jey snorted, his laugh rumbling low in his chest. “My bad.”

She turned her head and smirked over her shoulder. “Nah, you’re good. But lemme undress a bit more so you can work.”

He sat back on his knees as she pulled herself up, grabbing the hem of his oversized tee. Her movements were slow, almost teasing without meaning to be, and as the shirt lifted, inch by inch, Jey’s eyes traced every exposed detail—the taut lines of her back, the curve of her waist, the deep bruises along her sides that looked like battle scars. She turned to look at the Samoan, eyes widened slightly.

Then she tossed the shirt to the floor and glanced at him.

His gaze stayed on her a second too long.

“Damn,” he said under his breath.

“What?” she asked, brows lifted.

“I’ve seen you in your gear a hundred times,” Jey said, voice husky. “But you look different right now. Raw. Real.”

She didn’t say anything at first. As if she was wondering if they should cross the line. She pondered… and then she asked, quiet but bold, “Are you gonna kiss me now or not?”

That was all he needed.

He reached for her, hands curling around her waist as he pulled her into his lap. She straddled him instinctively, palms braced on his chest. His hands smoothed along her bare back as their lips finally met—slow at first, unsure, as if testing how much heat they could take without catching fire.

Their mouths moved together like they were syncing breath, finding rhythm, not rushed but aching with held-back want. Jey’s hands smoothed up and down her bare back, fingers splaying wide like he needed to memorize her. He kissed her deeper, slower—tongue teasing the edge of her bottom lip before breaking away and dragging his mouth along her jawline.

Then lower.

His lips found the sensitive spot behind her ear, then moved to the base of her neck. He kissed there with a kind of reverence, like he wasn’t just kissing a body—he was claiming a piece of history they’d both tried to ignore.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful,” he murmured, mouth brushing her pulse. “You don’t even know, do you?”

Rhea shivered, her nails curling slightly into his chest. He nipped at her throat, then smoothed his tongue over the spot. “You’re strong, yeah. But soft right here,” he said, fingers ghosting over the inside of her thighs, just under her sleep shorts. “I see it. I feel it. Let me take care of you.”

She leaned her forehead against his, their breath mingling, her lips parted and eyes heavy-lidded.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you, Rhea,” Jey whispered, his voice so low it felt like a secret.

There was no hesitation.

“Dick me down,” she breathed.

Blunt. Bold. Honest.

Jey blinked, a grin appeared before it melted into something darker. “Say it again.”

Rhea slid her hands up his chest, grounding herself before she said it again—slow and rough, like a challenge.

“Dick. Me. Down.”

Jey let out a low, guttural sound as he flipped them, laying her back against the mattress and hovering over her. “Bet,” he said, lips brushing hers. “You better hold on.”

Jey didn’t waste time as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear and slid them down with deliberate slowness. Rhea lifted her hips to help, breath catching as the cool air kissed her now-soaked center.

He tossed the fabric somewhere behind him without looking. His hands gripped her thighs and pushed them open, wide enough that she gasped at the sudden exposure.

Then his mouth was on her.

No hesitation.

No teasing.

Jey dove in as if he’d knew she hadn’t received this type of pleasure—like he knew exactly how she needed to be devoured. His tongue moved with rhythm and precision, curling and flattening and flicking in ways that made her legs twitch.

“Fuck—Jey,” she moaned, her voice cracking around his name.

He groaned into her, like her praise fueled him, like the way she tasted only made him hungrier. He locked his arms around her thighs when she tried to scoot back, overwhelmed by the intensity.

“Uh uh,” he said against her skin, voice thick and deep. “Stay your ass right here.”

His tongue returned to work, and Rhea’s head fell back into the pillow, her hands fisting the sheets. She couldn’t think straight. Couldn’t breathe without moaning.

“Shit, baby, your mouth is dangerous,” she breathed, her voice tight with pleasure.

Jey hummed against her, then lifted his eyes to look up at her—his chin wet, lips swollen, pupils blown. “Say that again.”

“You’re so fuckin’ good at this,” she moaned. “You’re gonna make me—”

“Then let it happen,” he growled, dragging his tongue one long, slow stroke. “Let me taste everything.”

Jey’s tongue never left her. His mouth moved with a hunger that bordered on worship, but when she thought she’d adjusted to the intensity—he upped it. Without lifting his head, he slid two thick fingers inside her, slow and steady at first, then curling up just right until he found that sweet spot that made her toes curl instantly.

Rhea jerked, nearly coming off the bed. “Oh my god, Jey—”

He didn’t answer. Just groaned low against her, tongue flattening while his fingers kept their perfect rhythm. He was relentless. Focused. His free hand gripped her thigh tighter as she writhed beneath him, trying to get away—but he wasn’t letting her go anywhere.

“Wait—fuck, I think—” she gasped, one hand flying to grip the headboard. “I think something’s happening—”

Jey knew exactly what.

And instead of easing up, he doubled down. His tongue moved faster, wetter, sloppier, and those two fingers angled just a bit deeper, pulsing against her g-spot like he was tuned into every nerve in her body.

“Jey—Jey—!”

Her voice cracked as her whole body locked up, then shattered. Her legs trembled uncontrollably and her hips lifted off the bed as a sharp gush of release sprayed against his mouth, her thighs, the sheets—everywhere.

Jey didn’t flinch. Didn’t stop. He moaned, tongue dragging through the mess, swallowing like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

Rhea’s body collapsed back against the bed, panting, dazed. “Holy shit.”

Jey pulled back finally, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his eyes dark and proud. “Told you,” he said, voice husky, “I was gon’ taste everything.”

Rhea tried to flip over, still catching her breath, but Jey pushed her shoulder gently, keeping her flat on her back.

“Nah,” he said, a dominant undertone. “I wanna see you take this dick.”

Her breath caught again—this time not from pleasure but from the way of his words.

Jey stood at the edge of the bed and finally peeled down those grey sweatpants, revealing the thick, hard length she had definitely noticed earlier but hadn’t been ready to face. Now, with him towering over her, body carved in gold and victory, her mouth went dry.

He climbed back onto the bed, hands strong as he grabbed her waist and lifted her effortlessly. Her legs dangled for a second before she instinctively clutched his shoulders.

“Jey—” she whispered, “I’ve never had this before.”

His gaze locked with hers. Serious. Focused. Soft around the edges, but feral at the core.

“I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m gon’ give you exactly what you need. Just hold on to me okay?”

She nodded. Chest to chest, breath mingling in the space between them. He gripped her thighs and guided her over him, the tip of his cock sliding against her slick folds, not entering—not yet—just resting.

She shivered, nails pressing into his skin.

Then Jey lowered her down.

Stretching.

Her lips parted, eyes fluttering shut, and a loud hiss escaped her mouth as he filled her, inch by inch.

“Fuck—” she gasped. “Oh my god.”

Jey’s arms tightened around her waist, holding her in place as she adjusted to the fullness.

“You feel that?” he growled, his nose brushing hers. “That’s my dick, right where he’s supposed to be.”

And Rhea? She believed it.

Her walls pulsed around him, greedy, already messy from earlier, but this? This was a different level.

Rhea moaned, long and unfiltered, rolling her hips slightly as her forehead pressed to his. “Fuck, Jey…”

“That’s it,” he murmured, his voice pure gravel, hot against her ear. “Take your time, Rhea. Feel all of me.”

She did. God, she did.

Her hips began to move, slow at first, riding him in long, grinding motions. Her moans turned into soft cries, and then—gasping pleas.

“Daddy…” she breathed, barely audible.

Jey’s jaw clenched tight. His grip on her ass tightened, rhythm stuttering for a moment before he caught it again, pumping up into her as she moved down. “What’d you just say?”

“Daddy,” she whined, needier now, fingers tangled in his hair. “I love it. I love it so much—”

He let out a growl so deep it vibrated through both of them. “Look at you. Already creaming on this dick. Fuckin’ messy for me.”

Rhea couldn’t stop the sounds spilling from her lips. She loved the way he held her like she was weightless, the way he filled her to the brink but kept control like he’d been made to fuck her.

“I love it, I love it,” she repeated, head falling back. “Don’t stop—”

“I ain’t,” he said, grabbing her hips and slamming her down harder. “Take it. You said you wanted it, right? So fuckin’ take it.”

Her thighs trembled, moans choked by how deep he was hitting now. Every thrust felt like it reached her soul, her sex drive overwhelmed and thriving in the possession, in the stretch, in the way Jey looked up at her like he owned her.

Because right now?

He did.

And before he knew it, he couldn’t take it anymore.

Her whines, the way her walls kept clenching around him, how she looked every time she cried out—it was driving him to the edge. So he shifted, pulling her off his lap effortlessly, his dick sliding out with a wet drag that made her whimper.

“W-what are you—?”

He didn’t answer.

He turned, carried her across the room like she weighed nothing, and sat her on the cool wooden dresser. Her skin prickled from the contrast, her legs spreading instinctively as he stepped between them.

Jey stroked himself once, twice, gaze locked on hers. “I gotta pull out,” he growled, tip dragging along her beautiful folds. “But you’re makin’ it real fuckin’ hard not to.”

Rhea’s lips parted, breathless and needy. “Then don’t,” she whispered, shameless. “I want it.”

“Yeah?” he teased, dragging the head of his cock through her again. “You want daddy’s cum that bad?”

She nodded frantically, her hands gripping the edge of the dresser. “Yes—yes. Give it to me—need your cum, daddy, I need it.”

Jey didn’t wait.

He slammed into her in one fluid thrust, making the dresser knock against the wall with a loud thud. Rhea gasped, head falling back, a cry escaping her throat.

“Shit,” he muttered, hips rolling deep. “Look at you—so fuckin’ wet for me. Beggin’ for this dick like you were made for it.”

“I was!” she moaned, barely able to catch her breath between thrusts. “You feel so good—daddy, harder—”

“You gon’ keep callin’ me that,” Jey grunted, fucking her deeper, rougher, until the sound of skin meeting skin echoed through the room, “I’m gonna make it permanent.”

Rhea choked on a moan, her body shaking, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes from how deep he was going.

“Take it,” he growled. “You said you wanted this? Then fuckin’ take it, Rhea.”

She did—and she never wanted it to stop.

Rhea clung to him, nails digging deep into Jey’s back, leaving red, angry lines as she moaned against his shoulder. Her thighs trembled where they wrapped around him, and her voice was cracking from how long he’d been working her over.

“Daddy,” she gasped, voice soaked in lust-filled desperation, “please, give me your cum—fill me up, daddy, I need it—”

Jey gritted his teeth, holding himself back even as her words made his cock twitch inside her.

“Nah,” he growled, pulling out with a wet pop that made her whine. “Not yet.”

“W-what—?”

“Flip over,” he ordered.

Rhea obeyed instantly, hair sticking to her sweaty skin as she turned and braced herself against the dresser. Jey stood behind her, dragging his cock through her folds once, then slammed into her from behind with a thrust so hard the entire dresser slammed into the wall—so violently it cracked the drywall behind it.

She screamed from pleasure.

Jey grabbed her hips and snapped into her again, again, and again—until the dresser rocked with every movement, the sound of it thudding against the wall in sync with their moans and cries.

“Take it,” he snarled. “Take that dick like the slut you are.”

“It’s your pussy, Daddy!” she cried, voice ragged, hands slipping on the wooden surface.

Jey leaned over her back, his breath hot at her ear. “It’s mine?”

“Yes—” she screamed as he pounded into her deeper. “Yours, daddy!”

“Only I can fuck you like this from now on?” he grunted, slapping her ass so hard she jerked forward.

“Yes—yes—yes!”

“You want me to cum in this pussy?” His voice was so dark now—possessive, dangerous. “For real?”

“Only you, Daddy,” Rhea sobbed, pleasure overtaking her. “Only you, daddy, that’s your pussy! Always—yours—fuck!”

Jey slammed into her one last time, hips jerking as he let go—finally—with a moan so deep it sounded like it came from his chest. His arms wrapped around her waist, locking her against him as he pulsed thick inside her, flooding her with everything he’d been holding back.

Rhea cried out, arching beneath him as the heat and pressure of his release sent her spiraling into one last, shuddering orgasm.

They both stilled.

Breathing hard.

Sweat-slicked skin sticking where it touched.

After a long moment, Jey slowly pulled out, both of them groaning at the sensation. He looked down—and paused.

His cum was already dripping from her, a creamy mess sliding down her thighs, smeared between her legs, and pooling slightly on the carpet beneath her.

“Damn,” Jey muttered, running a hand through his hair. “You okay?”

Rhea, still breathless, looked back over her shoulder. “Yeah… It’s okay.”

Jey stood up, grabbing a towel to toss her way, still watching the mess with a mix of awe and oh shit dawning on his face. “You want me to go get you a Plan B?”

She hesitated, but then nodded. “If you don’t mind.”

Jey stopped in his tracks, halfway toward his sweatpants. “Were you serious?” he asked.

She looked up at him, brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You want me to be the only one?” His voice wasn’t teasing. It was honest. Careful.

Rhea froze. The heat between her legs still throbbed, but now it was her chest aching.

“Well… I’m divorced. You’re divorced,” she said softly, tugging the towel across her lap. “I’ve always thought we had some kind of connection. Something real. Even when we didn’t say anything.”

Jey blinked, surprised—but not unhappy. “Really?”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “I know we never talked about it, but… I felt it.”

He stepped back toward her, still shirtless, still wrecked, but smiling just a little now.

“You regrettin’ it?” she asked, testing him.

Jey looked down at the dresser, the mess, the cracked wall—and then at her, glowing in sweat and honesty.

“Nah,” he said with a smirk. “I mean… I’ll have to tell the hotel about the hole, but…”

He ran his hand across his jaw. “How about we go out to dinner tomorrow? You pick the spot.”

Rhea smiled—soft, genuine, that rare kind of post-sex glow only women have when they feel safe.

“I’d like that.”

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