You had been flat on your back for what felt like hours, his name falling from your lips in broken repetition, as though it were the only word you knew anymore. König didn’t slow, didn’t falter—he pressed forward with the kind of determination that made your whole body tremble beneath him. Stopping simply wasn’t in his nature, not when he had you beneath him, not when the fire in his veins demanded more.

He was larger than life, his weight and size swallowing you whole, leaving you pinned and helpless against the intensity of his need. Every movement reminded you just how small you were in comparison, how effortlessly he could cover you, control you, consume you. And though your muscles ached and your body begged for pause, he only seemed to grow hungrier the more he took.

Your throat was raw from the way his name tumbled out of you—sometimes a cry, sometimes a plea, sometimes nothing more than a ragged breath. He carried on as though the night were endless, as though the adrenaline in his blood would never burn out. You felt him everywhere: in the weight pressing you down, in the rhythm that refused to yield, in the way his sheer presence left no space for escape, only surrender.

Exhaustion warred with exhilaration, your body straining to keep up while his didn’t falter for a moment. Even when you thought he had reached his limit, König’s eyes burned with something untamed, pulling him back to you again and again, as if conquering you once would never be enough.

There was no gentleness in the way he wanted you—only hunger, relentless and consuming. And though you shook beneath the force of him, though your body could hardly keep pace with his, you couldn’t ignore the thrill of being wanted so wholly, so fiercely, by a man who seemed carved from another world.