Rain's POV:
I look at him.
The room feels dense, saturated with something unspoken—heat, tension, the echo of violence that hasn't fully cooled yet.
The faint metallic trace of blood still hangs in the air, sharp against the warmer smells of skin and breath and sweat.
It settles low in my chest, makes everything feel closer, tighter.
He cups my pussy gently, and the response is immediate—heat rushing through me so fast it steals the air from my lungs.
I grab his forearm without thinking, fingers curling around solid muscle, grounding myself in him.
Then I lower myself slowly, deliberately, pressing my wetness into his warm palm.
"Baby—"
"Shhh,"
I murmur, tightening my grip on his arm as I guide his hand exactly where I need it.
"Just let me."
And then I move.
I grind against his palm, slow at first, teasing out the friction, letting it build. Every nerve wakes up at once.
My breath stutters, hips rolling, chasing that perfect pressure.
