Chapter 3: Ryan Claims Me First – Bent Over the Sink

I clutched the ice tray like it was a lifeline, my bare feet padding across the cool living-room carpet while every step sent fresh ripples of need through my still-fluttering core. My thighs brushed together with a slick, secret glide that made my breath hitch. Ryan and Tyler’s eyes burned into my ass the entire way, heavy and knowing, as I set the glasses down on the coffee table. Mom murmured a distracted “thanks, sweetie” without glancing up from the screen, Dad nodding absently at some explosion lighting up the TV. Their voices floated easy and ordinary, the kind of evening chatter that usually made me feel safe. Tonight it felt like a blade pressed to my throat—close enough to cut if I breathed wrong.

The second the living-room doorway swallowed me again on the way back, the kitchen might as well have been sealed off from the rest of the house. The real game snapped into focus the instant I crossed the threshold. Ryan was already waiting, his hands catching my waist and spinning me toward the sink before I could speak. He bent me forward exactly the way he had during those teasing grinds earlier, but this time there was no hesitation, no clothes between us. His fingers hooked into the waistband of my shorts and panties in one smooth tug, dragging both down my legs until they pooled at my ankles. Cool air kissed my bare skin, raising goosebumps along the backs of my thighs. The faucet was still running from earlier, cold water rushing loud enough to blur the edges of any sound we might make.

Ryan’s palm smoothed up my spine, pressing me down until my chest met the counter. I heard the soft rustle of his shorts dropping, then the blunt, heavy heat of his cock nudged between my soaked folds. The thick head parted me slowly, stretching my entrance with a burn that made my eyes flutter shut. Inch by deliberate inch he sank inside, my walls yielding around the solid length until he was buried to the hilt, balls pressed tight against me. The fullness was overwhelming—a deep, stretching pressure that made my breath catch in my throat and my pussy clamp down like a velvet fist. “Been waiting to feel this tight pussy since dinner,” he growled low against my ear, voice rough as gravel. “Take every inch, Mia.”