The Edge of Want - Chapter 3: The Fall | Free Erotic Story

Rain lashed the windows of Lila’s apartment above Voss Ink, a storm tearing through the night like it wanted to rip the city apart. She stood by the sink, washing ink off her hands, when the knock came—hard, insistent. She didn’t need to guess who it was. Her pulse kicked up, cunt already tingling as she crossed the room, barefoot, in nothing but a loose T-shirt and panties. She opened the door, and there he was—Ezra Kane, soaked to the bone, water dripping from his dark hair, shirt clinging to every muscle like it was painted on. “You shouldn’t be here,” she said, but her voice betrayed her—low, hungry, her nipples hardening under the thin fabric. He stepped inside without asking, kicking the door shut. “Tell me to leave, then.” She didn’t. Instead, she grabbed his wet shirt, yanked him close, and kissed him—hard and deep, tasting rain and salt on his lips. His hands were on her instantly, cold from the storm, sliding under her shirt to grip her bare waist. She shivered, not from the chill but from the heat pooling between her thighs, her pussy slick before he’d even touched her there. “Fuck, Lila,” he muttered against her mouth, peeling the shirt off her in one rough pull. Her tits bounced free, and he groaned, palming them, thumbs brushing her nipples until they peaked. She shoved him toward the bed—a messy pile of sheets in the corner—and he went, pulling her with him. They hit the mattress, a tangle of limbs, her straddling his hips as she tore at his shirt, buttons popping, exposing the lean, scarred planes of his chest. His jeans were next. She ripped the zipper down, freeing his cock—thick, hard, the head glistening with precum. It bobbed against his stomach, veins pulsing, and her mouth watered, but she didn’t suck him. Not tonight. She needed him inside her, filling her cunt until she couldn’t think. She kicked off her panties, soaked and useless, and climbed back onto him, her pussy hovering over his dick, teasing him with the wet heat dripping from her. “Condom?” he rasped, hands gripping her thighs, fingers digging into her flesh. “Pill,” she said, and that was enough. She sank down, slow at first, the fat head of his penis stretching her vagina, inch by agonizing inch. Her clit throbbed, her walls clenching around him, and she moaned—loud, shameless—as he filled her completely. His cock was buried to the hilt, balls pressed against her ass, and she felt every twitch, every pulse of him inside her cunt. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he growled, hips bucking up, driving deeper. She gasped, hands braced on his chest, nails raking his skin as she started to ride him. Hard. Fast. The bed creaked, the storm outside drowning out the slap of her ass against his thighs, the wet squelch of her pussy taking his dick over and over. Her tits bounced with each thrust, and he grabbed them, squeezing, pinching her nipples until she hissed. She was in control—or thought she was. Her hips rolled, grinding her clit against his pelvis, chasing the friction that made her vagina clench tighter, her orgasm building like a storm of its own. But then he moved—hands sliding to her waist, flipping her onto her back in one smooth motion. She hit the sheets, legs splayed, and he loomed over her, cock still buried deep, throbbing inside her. “My turn,” he said, voice rough and low, and he started fucking her—slow, deliberate thrusts that hit every nerve. His penis slid in and out, slick with her arousal, the head dragging against her walls, making her pussy flutter. His balls slapped her ass, heavy and full, and she felt them tighten, knew he was close. She wrapped her legs around him, heels digging into his back, pulling him deeper, daring him to break her. “Look at me,” he ordered, and she did—eyes locking with his, dark and wild. Her dominance slipped, vulnerability creeping in as he fucked her like he owned her, each thrust unraveling her control. “You feel so fucking good,” he whispered, lips brushing hers, and it was too much—the intimacy, the heat, the way his cock stretched her cunt until she couldn’t breathe. Her orgasm hit first, sudden and brutal. Her vagina clamped down, spasming around his dick, clit pulsing as waves of pleasure ripped through her. She screamed his name, back arching, nails clawing his shoulders, and he lost it—thrusting harder, faster, his cock swelling inside her. “Fuck, Lila—” he groaned, and she felt it—hot spurts of cum flooding her pussy, his penis jerking as he came, balls emptying deep inside her. They collapsed, sweaty and shaking, his weight pinning her to the bed. His cock softened but stayed inside, their mingled fluids leaking onto the sheets. She could feel her heartbeat in her clit, her cunt still twitching around him, and for a moment, they just breathed—ragged, raw, the storm outside a distant echo. He rolled off her, pulling her against his chest, and she let him—too wrecked to fight it. Her pussy ached, sated but tender, and his hand rested on her hip, possessive but soft. “You okay?” he asked, voice quiet now, almost careful. She nodded, throat tight, not trusting herself to speak. She’d fucked him to take control, but lying there, skin to skin, she felt something else—something dangerous, something she couldn’t name. The rain kept falling, and neither of them moved.