The connection was brutal. I watched, transfixed, as inches of my thick, veiny cock disappeared into her body. Her pussy lips stretched obscenely around me, hugging every ridge and vein. "Oh fuck... so big... Peter!" It felt like heaven—tight, wet heat gripping me like a velvet fist.

I didn't let her adjust. I pulled back, leaving just the crown inside her. She whimpered at the empty feeling, her hips pushing back, seeking me. "More! Please, more—"

I gave it to her. Drove back in—deep, fast, hard. The sound was obscene—a wet slap as my hips met her ass, followed by a sharp cry as I hit bottom. Her pussy fluttered around me, clenching desperately as if trying to trap me inside.

Then I began to fuck her. Deep. Fast. Hard. Each withdrawal was almost total, leaving only the tip inside. Each thrust was a powerful surge, burying myself to the hilt, hitting her cervix.

The sound was a brutal percussion—our skin slapping together, wet and loud—a primal rhythm that echoed through the penthouse, mixing with her screams and my own guttural groans.

"Peter! Peter! YES! HARDER! DEEPER!"

I gave it to her. Faster. Harder. My hips became a piston, driving into her with relentless force. Her body rocked forward with every thrust, her slick pussy gripping my cock like a vise.

The sight was mesmerizing—her bare ass rippling with each impact, her back straining, her fingers clawing at the marble.

"You love this, don't you?" I snarled, pounding into her, my balls slapping against her clit with every stroke. "Taking my huge cock in this penthouse, where everyone below you can hear."

"YES! YES! LOVE IT! LOVE YOUR COCK! LOVE THIS—ah!—HOME!" Her voice broke on a scream. I felt her pussy spasm around me, getting impossibly tighter, her inner walls fluttering, trying to milk me.

She could barely take half of me. I felt the tight resistance every time I buried myself, felt her body stretch to its limit. But she took it all. Took the deep, hard fucking I gave her—took the stretch, the pain, the overwhelming pleasure. Took my cock, my power, my ownership.

And through it all—beneath the deep, fast, hard thrusts—there was a gentleness in the way my hands held her hips. Possessive, protective. Claiming. Worshipping the body that was giving me so much.

The gentleness wasn't soft; it was profound. A deep, protective love embedded in the brutal act of claiming her body.

"My Love," I growled, driving into her one last time, grinding against her cervix, holding myself deep as she came—her entire body shaking violently, her pussy convulsing around me, a gush of her release coating my balls. "Always My Love. Always."

My hips pistoned into her one last time, deep and hard, grinding against her cervix as her pussy convulsed around me. With a final, shuddering cry, Isabella collapsed forward onto the marble, spent and trembling. But she wasn't done.

Before I could move, she twisted with surprising agility, rolling me onto my back. Her legs planted firmly on the floor on either side of my hips—not kneeling, but squatting low over my slick, still-hard cock. Her hands pressed flat against my chest, holding me down. Her eyes burned with fresh, feral hunger.

Now she was in charge, huh? Love that.

"My turn, Teacherfucker," she growled, her voice raw. "Watch and learn my favorite student."

With a slow, deliberate flex of her thighs, she lowered herself onto my cock. Her body sank down, her slick pussy lips parting to swallow the thick head. A low hiss escaped me as the tight heat enveloped me.

She took her time, sinking inch by inch, her pussy stretched obscenely wide around my girth. The sensation was overwhelming—velvet walls gripping me, fluttering as she paused, fully impaled, my cock throbbing deep inside her.

Her legs coiled and released, propelling her body up and down. She wasn't just riding me—she was conquering me. Each bounce was powerful, deliberate. Up—almost pulling off entirely, leaving just the tip inside—then slamming down hard, taking me to the root in one fluid motion.

The sound was hypnotic—my cock plunging into her depth, followed by a sharp, wet slap as her ass met my thighs, the smack echoing through the penthouse.

And her breasts... Christ, her breasts. They were hypnotic. Full, heavy, bouncing wildly with every drop and bounce—up and down, up and down. The soft flesh jiggled with the impact, her flushed nipples drawing tight circles in the air.

Sweat glistened on her skin, catching the city lights streaming through the glass behind her. It was a sight of raw, untamed beauty—feminine power embodied in flesh and motion.

"Touch them," she begged, her voice husky with effort, her eyes locked onto mine as she bounced. Her hands pressed harder into my chest, her nails digging in slightly. "Please, Peter... touch my tits!"

My hands remained by my sides. I refused to move. Why ruin the view? Why interrupt this glorious, primal spectacle?

She was moving on me, using me, and the sight of her body in motion—riding my cock with such abandon, her breasts bouncing freely, the muscles in her thighs and abdomen working with each powerful thrust—was too exquisite to interrupt. I wanted to burn this image into my brain forever.

A silent, intense appreciation. How could I not.

"Please..." she whimpered, her pace actually increasing slightly, her breasts bouncing even harder with her desperation. "I need your hands on me!"

I just shook my head slowly, a wolfish grin spreading across my face. I was enjoying the show too much. I kept my hands planted firmly on the cool marble, anchoring myself.

My eyes devoured her—the graceful curve of her spine as she arched, the flex and release of her thigh muscles, the way her hair spilled over her shoulders, the sheer, raw power in her movements.

And her breasts... full, heavy, perfect, bouncing wildly with every bounce, slapping together slightly at the apex of each drop. It was mesmerizing. A living work of art riding my cock.

"Peter, please!" Her voice cracked, her rhythm faltering for a second as her pleasure peaked.

I took pity. Not with my hands. With my words. "Faster," I commanded. "Ride me harder. Make those tits bounce harder. Show me how much you love your new home."

A shudder ran through her. Her eyes went dark with renewed purpose. She planted her feet more firmly, her legs coiling like springs. The bounce became faster—more powerful. Up. Down. Up. Down.

Each thrust down was harder, deeper, her ass slapped against my thighs loud enough to sting, her breasts bouncing wildly—swaying, jiggling, slapping together with every descent. She met my gaze, her expression a mask of pure, unadulterated need and triumph.

The sensation was incredible—her tight pussy gripping me, milking me, the wet heat, the slick friction, the visual feast of her body using me. The air was thick with the sound of our bodies, her desperate moans, and the wet slap of skin on skin. She was fucking me. Using me. And it was glorious.

After minutes of this intense, athletic riding, she pushed herself up, pulling off me with a slick pop. She didn't go far. She scrambled up my body, positioning us so we were pressed tight against the massive floor-to-ceiling window, the cool glass searing against her hot skin. She was facing the city now, her back to my chest.

She braced her hands against the glass, spreading her legs slightly. "Your turn, Wolfe," she breathed, pressing her ass back against my cock. "Fuck me against our city."

I needed no further invitation. I rose up, kneeling behind her, gripping her hips as I drove into her wet heat from behind.

My thrusts were deep and powerful once more, each one pressing her flush against the cool glass, her breasts flattening against the window, smearing it with sweat and arousal.

The city lights glittered beyond us, silent witnesses to our conquest.

Each deep thrust pressed her against the glass, the cool surface contrasting with the heat of our bodies. I could see our reflection in the glass—my hand gripping her hip, my cock disappearing into her pussy over and over, her breasts flattened against the window with every impact.

The sight was intensely erotic—our reflection captured in the glass against the sprawling city lights, a private pornographic show for us alone.

"Yes! Peter! Right there! Fuck me against the glass!" she screamed, pushing back to meet my thrusts, her body pressed between me and the cold window, held captive by the pleasure.

I fucked her hard against the glass, the cool slick against my chest, the heat of her pussy around me, both of us watching the reflection of our raw, animalistic act against the backdrop of our kingdom.

The city watched. We conquered.

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