Novel Full Chapter 888: Endless Teasing Circles (r-18)
Chapter 888: Endless Teasing Circles (r-18)
He smiled—dark, tender, possessive. And with infinite care, he began to truly claim her—slow, deliberate thrusts that dragged every inch through her sensitive, fluttering heat, building her pleasure higher and higher with every careful stroke.
He stayed buried inside her—completely still for several long heartbeats—letting her body adjust to the overwhelming fullness.
The initial sharp sting of her deflowering had dulled to a deep, throbbing ache that pulsed in time with his cock buried so deep she could feel it pressing against the very end of her channel.
Every tiny shift of her hips sent fresh sparks radiating outward: the thick ridge of his crown dragging slowly along her front wall, the veined shaft stretching her inner muscles to their limit, the heavy press of his balls resting warm and full against the slick cleft of her ass.
Sarah’s breath came in shallow, trembling pants—chest rising and falling rapidly against his.
Tears still clung to her lashes, but they weren’t from pain anymore.
They were from the sheer intensity of it all: the raw vulnerability of being so completely filled for the first time, the sinful stretch that bordered on too much, the dark thrill of surrender to a cock that felt almost inhuman in its size and power.
Peter lifted his head just enough to meet her glassy, dazed gaze. His voice was soft, reverent, thick with pride and care.
"You took me, baby. Look at you—stretched so perfectly around me." He brushed a damp strand of hair from her forehead, thumb tracing the curve of her cheek. "How does it feel now? Tell me the truth."
She swallowed hard—lips parted, trembling. Her inner walls fluttered weakly around him—tiny, involuntary squeezes that made him groan low in his throat. "It... it still hurts a little... but... deeper..." Her voice cracked into a whisper.
"It feels so full... so hot... like I can feel you everywhere inside me..." A fresh wave of slick leaked out around his base, coating his balls and dripping slowly down her perineum.
"I didn’t know... it could feel like this..."
He smiled—dark, approving—and kissed her slowly, deeply, swallowing the soft whimper she made when he shifted the tiniest fraction inside her.
"That’s my good girl. You’re allowed to feel everything. The ache, the stretch, the pleasure. All of it belongs to you."
One hand slid down between them—fingers finding her swollen clit with feather-light circles. The touch was barely there—just enough to send gentle sparks dancing through her core, easing the lingering burn into something warmer, wetter, needier.
She gasped into his mouth—hips twitching upward on instinct—driving him even deeper for a heartbeat. A sharp, sweet sting flared where he bottomed out against her cervix, but it melted almost instantly into a deep, rolling wave of pleasure that made her toes curl and her back arch.
"Oh—" Her nails dug lightly into his shoulders. "Do that again... please..."
He obeyed—rocking forward in the smallest, slowest thrust imaginable. Not pulling out—just grinding deep, rolling his hips in a slow circle so the thick base of his cock pressed firmly against her clit while the head nudged that sensitive spot inside her over and over.
The motion dragged his veined cock along her stretched walls; her inner muscles rippled and clenched greedily around him, trying to hold him exactly where the pleasure burned brightest.
"Fuck... you’re gripping me so tight," he groaned against her throat, voice rough with restraint. "Feel that? That’s your pussy learning me. Learning how good it can feel to be this full."
He kept the rhythm glacial—tiny, grinding circles—each one coaxing fresh gushes of slick from her depths.
The wet, sucking sounds of their bodies joined filled the room, obscene and intimate.
Her moans grew softer, breathier—turning from pained whimpers into needy, pleading sighs. The pain was still there—faint echoes with every deep press—but it had transformed: a dark, delicious undercurrent that only made the pleasure sharper, more intense.
Every grind against her clit sent bright sparks up her spine; every nudge against her front wall made her belly flutter with that deep, building pressure.
"Peter... it’s... it’s building again..." Her voice was small, almost surprised—eyes wide with wonder and lingering shyness. "I didn’t think... after everything... I could still..."
He kissed her temple—then her lips—murmuring against them. "You can. You will. Let it happen slow. Ride it out with me."
His thumb kept circling her clit—steady, patient—while his hips maintained that torturously gentle grind.
"You have my permission to come whenever you want. As many times as you need. I’m not going anywhere."
The permission undid her. Something inside her unclenched—emotionally, physically—and the slow-building wave crested without warning.
Her pussy clamped down hard around his thickness—rhythmic, powerful spasms that milked every inch of him.
She cried out—soft, shattered, almost surprised—hips jerking as pleasure rolled through her in long, languid pulses. Fresh slick flooded around his cock, dripping down his balls in warm, slippery trails. Her walls fluttered and rippled, hugging him so tightly he had to bite back a groan.
He held her through it—rocking gently, never pulling out—murmuring praise into her hair.
"That’s it... beautiful girl... coming so sweetly on my cock..."
"You feel incredible. So perfect. So mine."
When the tremors finally eased, she was limp beneath him—breathing ragged, cheeks flushed, eyes half-lidded and dazed. But her hips still rolled in tiny, instinctive circles—chasing the lingering aftershocks, already greedy for more.
He kissed her forehead—then her mouth—slow and deep. "We can stay like this as long as you want," he whispered. "Or I can start moving properly. Slow. Deep. However you need." His thumb brushed her clit once more—light, teasing—drawing a soft, needy whimper.
"Tell me what you want next, Sarah."
She looked up at him—eyes shining with a mix of exhaustion, wonder, and fresh hunger. Her voice was small, shy, but certain. "Move... please..." A trembling breath. "Make me feel you... everywhere."
He smiled—dark, tender, possessive. And with infinite care, he began to truly claim her.
He began to move—slow, deliberate, no sharp thrusts at first, just deep, rolling rocks of his hips that stirred his thick length inside her in languid, circular grinds.
Each slow circle dragged the flared ridge of his crown along her front wall in a heavy, dragging sweep—pressing, stretching, rubbing that swollen, sensitive patch over and over without ever fully withdrawing.