Nayla’s whisper hung between them like smoke—hot, needy, trembling.
The words were barely out of her mouth before Aiden’s mouth crashed down on hers again—harder this ti, hungrier.
His tongue claid hers in deep, possessive strokes while one hand slid beneath her neck, cradling her head like sothing precious, the other gripping her hip with bruising strength.
Thighs spread wide, knees hooked over his hips, her slick heat pressed flush against the underside of his cock.
He broke the kiss just long enough to look down at her.
Her midnight hair fanned across the pillows like spilled ink.
Her crimson eyes were glassy, pupils blown so wide only a thin ring of red remained.
Her chest rose and fell in quick, shallow pants—breasts heavy, nipples dark and swollen from his earlier worship.
Between her thighs, her virgin pussy glistened obscenely—swollen lips parted, clit throbbing visibly, entrance fluttering with every heartbeat.
Aiden exhaled roughly.
"You’re sure?" he asked, voice gravel-rough. "Once I start... I won’t stop until you’re mine completely."
Nayla reached up, nails digging lightly into his shoulders.
"I’ve waited centuries for this," she breathed. "I want it to hurt. I want to feel you break open."
A low, feral groan tore from his throat.
He kissed her again—slower now, almost reverent—while he shifted his hips.
The thick head of his cock nudged her entrance.
She was so wet that the first press was easy—sliding just barely inside, stretching the tight ring of muscle.
Nayla gasped into his mouth—sharp, surprised.
He held still, letting her adjust.
"Just the tip," he murmured against her lips. "Breathe for ."
She did—shallow, trembling breaths—while her walls fluttered wildly around the intrusion.
He pushed forward another inch.
The resistance was imdiate—soft, elastic, but unyielding.
Her hyn.
Still intact after all these centuries.
Aiden groaned at the feel of it—thin, taut mbrane stretched tight across her entrance, guarding what no one had ever claid.
Nayla’s breath hitched.
"There..." she whispered. "That’s it..."
He kissed her temple, her cheek, the corner of her eye.
"I’m going to go slow," he promised. "Tell if it’s too much."
She shook her head frantically.
"Don’t stop. Please don’t stop."
He rocked forward—tiny, shallow thrusts—never breaching the barrier, just letting her feel the steady pressure building.
Each small movent dragged the swollen head against that thin mbrane—stretching it, thinning it, making her whimper with every pass.
Her nails dug deeper into his shoulders.
"It’s... tight..." she gasped. "So tight—"
"You’re doing so good," he murmured, voice strained with his own need. "So fucking good for ."
He kept the rhythm—slow, patient rocking—letting the pressure build gradually.
The mbrane stretched further with each shallow thrust—thinner, tauter—until finally, with one careful, deliberate push—
It gave.
A tiny, sharp pop of resistance.
Nayla cried out—half pain, half pleasure—back arching off the bed.
Warmth blood between them.
Virgin blood—bright, scarlet—trickled down her inner thighs, mingling with her slick.
Aiden groaned at the sight—raw, primal satisfaction flooding his chest.
"Mine," he growled, voice wrecked. "All mine now."
He didn’t thrust deeper yet.
He held still—buried only halfway—letting her feel the stretch, the burn, the fullness.
Nayla’s thighs trembled violently around his hips.
"It hurts..." she whimpered, but her voice cracked with pleasure. "It hurts so good..."
He kissed her tears away—soft, tender—while one hand slipped between them.
His thumb found her clit—swollen, oversensitive—and rubbed in slow, gentle circles.
The pleasure cut through the sting almost imdiately.
Her walls fluttered wildly around him—clenching, pulsing—trying to pull him deeper.
"More..." she begged, voice breaking. "Please—more—"
Aiden kissed her again—deep, swallowing her moans—while he pushed forward another inch.
Then another.
Until he was seated fully—thick shaft buried to the hilt inside her impossibly tight heat.
Nayla sobbed into his mouth—overwheld, stretched, filled.
He held still again—letting her adjust—forehead pressed to hers, breathing her in.
"You’re so fucking tight," he rasped. "So perfect. Feel how deep I am?"
She nodded frantically—tears streaming down her temples.
"I feel you... everywhere..."
He started moving then—slow, shallow thrusts—barely pulling out before sliding back in.
Each drag dragged along every sensitive inch of her walls, the slight burn of her torn hyn already fading beneath waves of pleasure.
Nayla’s hands road his back—nails raking, urging him on.
"Faster..." she gasped. "Harder—please—"
Aiden growled.
He gave her what she asked.
Thrusts grew deeper, stronger—still controlled, but no longer gentle.
Each stroke bottod out—thick head kissing her cervix—while his thumb never left her clit.
The wet sounds were obscene—slick, bloody, rhythmic—every thrust pushing more of her virgin blood and arousal out around his shaft.
Nayla’s cries turned wild—high, desperate, unashad.
"Yes—fuck—yes—Aiden—!"
Her walls started fluttering again—clenching hard around him.
She was close.
He angled his hips—changing the angle so the ridge of his cock dragged hard against her g-spot with every thrust.
Nayla shattered.
Her scream echoed through the room—raw, broken, ecstatic.
Her pussy clamped down like a vice—pulsing, milking him—gushing fresh slick around his cock in hot, rhythmic waves.
Aiden groaned—deep, primal—fighting not to co yet.
He fucked her through it—slow, deep strokes—drawing out every tremor, every sob.
When her spasms finally slowed, he didn’t stop.
He kept going—harder now, faster—chasing his own release while she clung to him, whimpering, oversensitive.
"Co inside ," she begged, voice wrecked. "Fill —claim —"
The words snapped sothing inside him.
He thrust once, twice more—deep, possessive—then buried himself to the root and ca.
Thick, hot spurts flooded her—painting her untouched depths, mixing with her blood and slick.
Nayla moaned at the feel—warm, heavy, claiming—her walls fluttering again in weak, exhausted pulses.
Nayla’s walls still fluttered weakly around him, milking the last drops from his release as he stayed buried deep inside her.
The mix of his cum, her slick, and the faint traces of her virgin blood made every tiny shift feel slick and obscene.
She let out a soft, trembling whimper, thighs quivering around his hips.
"I can still feel you... so hard inside ," she breathed against his throat, voice wrecked and reverent. "Even after you ca... you’re still throbbing. Still stretching ."
Aiden groaned low in his chest, hips giving an involuntary twitch that dragged a fresh gasp from her.
"Cause I’m not done with you," he rasped, voice dark and possessive. "Not even close."
He lifted his head just enough to et her glassy crimson gaze.
Nayla’s lips parted on a shaky exhale.
Her nails dug into his shoulders—needy, desperate.
"Please..." she whispered, voice cracking with fresh want. "Harder this ti. I want to feel you ruin . I want to feel every inch of you claiming what’s yours."
Aiden’s eyes flashed.
He nodded once—dark, dangerous, promising.
"Hold on to ," he growled.
Then he pulled out almost completely—slow, deliberate—letting her feel the drag of every thick vein along her sensitive walls.
Nayla whimpered at the loss.
Before she could beg again, he slamd back in—hard.
Deep.
The wet slap of skin on skin echoed through the room.
Nayla’s cry was sharp, broken—half pain, half ecstasy.
Her back arched violently, breasts bouncing with the force of the thrust.
Aiden didn’t give her ti to adjust.
He set a brutal, punishing rhythm—pulling out almost to the tip before driving back in with enough force to make the massive bedfra creak.
Each thrust bottod out—thick head kissing her cervix—while his hips snapped forward with raw, unrestrained power.
Nayla’s moans turned wild—high, desperate, unashad.
"Yes—fuck—harder—Aiden—!"
Her walls clamped down around him like a vice—still impossibly tight, still fluttering from her earlier orgasms—milking him with every punishing stroke.
Aiden leaned down, capturing one dark, swollen nipple between his lips.
He sucked hard—teeth grazing—while his hand found the other breast, kneading roughly, pinching the nipple between thumb and forefinger.
Nayla sobbed—overstimulated, overwheld.
"Too much—too much—don’t stop—!"
He switched—mouth on the other breast now, sucking greedily while his fingers pinched and rolled the first nipple, tugging sharply.
Her hips bucked helplessly beneath him, trying to et every brutal thrust.
His free hand slid between them—thumb finding her swollen clit and rubbing in tight, relentless circles.
The added stimulation made her scream—voice hoarse, cracking.
"Aiden—gonna—gonna co again—!"
"Co," he growled against her breast, teeth nipping sharply. "Co on my cock while I fuck you raw."
He slamd into her harder—faster—each thrust driving deeper, forcing more slick and cum out around his shaft.
Nayla shattered.
Her pussy clamped down so tight he could barely move—walls rippling, pulsing, gushing fresh slick in hot waves.
Her scream echoed—raw, broken, ecstatic—body convulsing beneath him.
Aiden fucked her through it—relentless—drawing out every tremor, every sob.
When her spasms finally slowed, he didn’t stop.
He kept pounding into her—hard, deep, possessive—while his mouth moved between her breasts, sucking bruises into the soft flesh, tongue swirling over each swollen nipple.
His thumb never left her clit—rubbing faster now, rciless.
Nayla was crying openly now—tears of pleasure streaming down her temples—body trembling violently.
"Too much—too good—can’t—can’t stop coming—"
She ca again—harder this ti—screaming his na, walls spasming so violently it dragged him dangerously close to the edge.
Aiden groaned—deep, feral—fighting to hold on.
"One more," he growled against her throat. "Give one more."
He angled his hips—changing the thrust so the thick ridge of his cock dragged ruthlessly against her g-spot with every stroke.
His thumb pressed harder on her clit—rubbing in tight, fast circles.
His mouth latched onto her nipple again—sucking hard, teeth grazing.
Nayla’s entire body seized.
Her scream was wordless—pure, shattered pleasure.
Her pussy clamped down like a fist—milking him in violent, rhythmic pulses—gushing slick so hard it soaked his thighs, the sheets, everything.
Aiden couldn’t hold back anymore.
He thrust once—twice—three tis more—deep, brutal—then buried himself to the root and ca.
Thick, hot ropes flooded her again—painting her depths, mixing with the ss already inside her.
He groaned against her throat—long, broken—hips jerking with every pulse.
Nayla sobbed beneath him—overstimulated, trembling, clinging to him like he was the only thing keeping her grounded.
When the last tremor finally faded, Aiden collapsed over her—careful not to crush her—forehead pressed to hers, both of them gasping.
He stayed inside her—while she trembled in his arms.
Nayla’s voice was barely a whisper—raw, wrecked.
"You... broke ..." she breathed. "And I’ve never felt more whole."
Aiden kissed her—slow, tender—tasting the salt of her tears, the sweetness of her mouth.
"You’re mine," he murmured. "Completely. Forever."
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END OF Chapter : 213 : NAYLA’S FIRST TI!
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