He paused.

Seven centimeters out.

Two still inside.

He waited.

Three seconds.

Her hips moved.

She didn’t decide to move them.

The small, helpless, backward press of them — two centimeters of him still inside her, and her body pressing back, the involuntary motion of something that had been introduced to a sensation and was now, against every rational argument, asking for it.

He felt it.

He looked at her.

At the back of her head, the flower petals in her hair, the bangles on her wrists.

He said nothing.

He waited another two seconds.

Her hips pressed back again.

Slightly more.

"Don’t," she said.

Not to him.

To herself.

"Don’t. Don’t. I don’t — I’m not—"

He pressed forward.

The two centimeters returned. The three.

"HNGH~—"

She stopped talking to herself.

The four.

"MMNH~—"

The five.

She pressed back.

She was pressing back.

The involuntary, honest, humiliating truth of a body that had decided something and was participating in it — her wide, almond-brown hips pressing backward into the thrust, her ass meeting his hips, the soft flesh of her spreading against the hard plane of him.

"I hate—" The words breaking around the moan. "I hate — AAAHH~—I hate—"

He smacked her ass.

The full, flat, declarative SLAP of his palm against the full, generous right cheek — the flesh rippling outward from the impact, the warmth of the slap blooming across the almond skin.

"AAANGHH~!!"

"You were saying?"

"I HATE—"

SLAP. 𝕗𝐫𝚎𝗲𝘄𝐞𝕓𝐧𝕠𝘃𝕖𝐥.𝐜𝚘𝚖

"HIIEEK~!!"

"Still?"

She buried her face.

He twisted her face sideways.

Not roughly — the firm, deliberate turn of her chin, pressing it sideways until her profile was toward Suresh, until the groom on the floor could see her expression in the full, unguarded state it was currently in.

The eyes.

The expression.

The full, rolling, demolished, involuntary ahego of a woman who was getting her anal virginity taken for the first time on her wedding night in front of her groom and whose body had, at some point in the last several minutes, sent a memo to her face that this was something it was participating in.

The tears running.

The open mouth.

The rolled-back eyes.

The full, honest, unhidden face of a woman who was full inside in a way she had never been full before and whose body was reporting this in the most direct, unambiguous visual language available.

He looked at Suresh.

At the sharp, wet, open eyes of the man who had closed them earlier and opened them again because a closed-eyed man still had ears, and the ears had not stopped working, and the sounds had not stopped, and he had come back.

He was looking at her face.

At the expression.

He pressed Preet’s pubic hair — the full, thick handful of it, pulling up, the tug of it traveling — and she moaned, her hips rolling, the expression on her face going somewhere further.

"AAANGHH~—HNGH~—"

He sucked her breast.

Over her shoulder, pulling the dark nipple into his mouth, the full, heavy weight of her swinging with the motion, his eyes on Suresh the whole time — the direct, conversational, entirely honest eyes of a man who was not performing cruelty but was demonstrating a fact.

Suresh was shaking.

"A woman," Raven said, around her breast, his eyes still on the groom, "does not want to be handled."

"MMNH~—AAAHH~—"

"She wants to be taken."

PAAAH!

"IAAAANGHH~!!"

"Not because she is weak." He drove forward. The full depth of it, the nine inches seated completely, the dense, comprehensive fullness of maximum depth in a passage that had been virgin twenty minutes ago. "But because the taking tells her body something the handling never did."

Suresh’s eyes.

The sharp, wet, precise tears of a man who has listened to something too clearly.

"It tells her," Raven said, pulling back and driving forward again, the pace finding itself now, the rhythm of a cock that had educated a passage and was now using the education, "that someone has decided she was worth the effort of wanting completely."

PAH! PAH! PAH!

"AAANGHH~!! RAVEN — MY BELLY — I FEEL — MY BELLY IS FULL — HOW IS MY BELLY—"

"That is me," he said.

"OH — OH — RAVEN—"

PAAAH!

"IAAAANGHH~!! AAAHH~!! I’M — SOMETHING IS — I’M GOING TO—"

The orgasm arrived from nowhere she had expected it to arrive from — not the front channel, not the familiar, mapped route — from the walls of the anal passage itself, the dense, comprehensive network of nerve endings that had just been comprehensively introduced to themselves, firing in one long, rolling wave.

Her whole body.

The full-body shudder — the bangles ringing against each other, the flower petals scattering, the bed frame hitting the wall — and she pressed her face into the pillow and screamed.

"IAAAANGHH~!! AAAHH~!! RAVEN — I’M — IN MY — AAANGHH~!!"

The squirt.

Landing on the sheets.

On the flower petals.

Running down her thighs and onto the bed and over the edge onto the floor where Suresh’s knees were pressing against the stone.

He closed his eyes again.

This time they stayed closed.

Raven looked at the closed eyes.

He pulled out.

All the way.

The withdrawal sound — the wet, dense, obscene sound of a passage releasing something it had been holding — and Preet collapsed.

The full, boneless, comprehensive collapse of a woman whose body has just informed her that it has concluded its active participation in the evening’s proceedings and she is welcome to be horizontal.

She lay on the ruined wedding bed.

Face-down.

Flower petals.

Bangles.

The warm, almond-brown width of her back rising and falling with the fast, shaking breath of someone who has just arrived somewhere they did not plan to arrive.

He looked at her.

At the stretched, dark, puckered entrance — no longer the naive tightness of the untouched, the ring bearing the honest, visible evidence of what it had just been through, red-edged, swollen, gaping slightly around the absence of him.

He ran his thumb along it.

She flinched.

"HNGH~—"

"Congratulations," he said.

Warm.

The genuine, unhurried warmth of a man who means what he says.

"You just lost your little hole’s virginity."

She pressed her face into the pillow.

"Mmmphh~"

Ignoring her moans he simply whispered,"So, can I clap you harder now? You see, I feel bored going this slowly."

He didn’t wait for her answer.

His hips snapped forward like a whipcrack — full brutal surge, nine inches slamming balls-deep in one violent stroke.

PAAAAH!

"IIIIIAAAAAANGHH~!!!!"

PHACKK! PHACKK! PHACKK!

Her scream tore raw as he destroyed her anal in sudden merciless blur, hips pounding like a machine. No warmup. No mercy. Just savage, wet, clapping destruction.

Pah! Pah! Pah! Pah! PAH!

"RAVEN— MY ASS— AAAHHH~!! IT’S BREAKING— HNGHHHAAAAA~!!"

Her heavy tits swung wild underneath, slapping hard against her own chest with every punishing thrust — loud fleshy smacks mixing with the obscene anal clapping.

PHAAAAACKK! PHACKK! PHACKK!

"CRYING LOUDER FOR ME," he growled, gripping her waist and wrecking her faster, deeper, the bed slamming against the wall.

"AAANGHH~!! AAAHH~!! I’M— I’M GOING TO DIE— PLEASE— HIIIEEEEK~!!!"

Pah pah pah pah PAH! PHAAAAAACKKK!

Her cries turned into broken, sobbing wails, tears flooding the pillow as her stretched asshole took the brutal beating, body jerking like a ragdoll.

"SLO— AHNN— DESTRO— IAAAANGHHH~!! MY CHEST— THEY HURT— AAAHHH~!!"

He rammed harder, hips a violent blur, flesh slapping echoing louder than her screams.

PHACKK! PHACKK! PHAAAAAH!

"RAV— I’M CUMM— IN — I’M— IIIIIIIAAAAAANGHHHH~!!!!"