Chapter 47: Chapter 47- Just Hold On

She collapsed completely, her thick body sprawling bonelessly across the bed.

Her pussy gaped slightly, stretched and used, and she could feel his cum beginning to leak out—thick, warm fluid dripping down her inner thighs to add to the mess already soaking the sheets.

Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath.

Her whole body was covered in sweat, her dark hair plastered to her forehead and cheeks.

Her breasts ached from their violent movement. Her throat was raw. Her pussy throbbed, stretched and sore but somehow… satisfied.

For the first time in longer than she could remember, Hana felt genuinely, completely satisfied.

Raven settled beside her on the narrow bed, his own breathing slightly elevated but nowhere near as wrecked as hers.

He reached out, his hand gentle now as it traced lazy patterns on her back.

“Good mare,” he murmured, the words somehow affectionate despite their degrading nature. “You took every inch perfectly. Your body was made for this.”

Hana couldn’t respond.

Could only lie there, cum leaking from her used pussy, tears drying on her cheeks, her mind floating in some strange space between shame and contentment.

’I… h-he is too vulgar…’

Only feel herself drifting off to sleep.

The first pale threads of dawn were crawling through the blinds when Hana’s eyes cracked open.

Her body felt like someone had run it through a meat grinder—every muscle ached, her pussy throbbed with a dull, satisfied soreness, and there was dried cum everywhere. On her face. Between her thighs. Crusted in her hair.

She blinked slowly, her mind struggling to piece together where she was.

’This isn’t my bedroom.’

The walls were covered in drawings. Pornographic sketches. Women in various states of undress and violation. The desk in the corner was cluttered with art supplies and empty energy drink cans.

And beside her, one arm draped possessively across her thick waist, was Raven.

He was already awake. Those dark eyes watching her with an intensity that made her breath hitch.

“Morning,” he said simply, his voice rough from sleep.

Hana opened her mouth to respond—to say something, anything—but no words came out. Her throat was raw, her voice gone from screaming and crying and having his cock shoved down her esophagus for what felt like hours.

Raven’s hand moved, fingers tracing the curve of her hip beneath the thin sheet they’d somehow ended up under. “You smell like sex.”

Heat flooded Hana’s face. She tried to pull away, tried to cover herself, but his grip tightened.

“I need to…” she croaked, her voice barely audible. “I need to shower. Clean myself. I’m disgusting—”

“You’re mine,” Raven corrected, sitting up. The sheet fell away from his torso, revealing that perfect body—lean muscle, defined abs, not an ounce of unnecessary fat. “Which means I decide when you get clean.”

He stood, completely naked, his cock already half-hard despite the marathon fucking session they’d just finished. Hana’s eyes went there automatically, her body betraying her again with a fresh pulse of heat between her legs.

How can I still want it after everything?

Raven walked toward what she assumed was the bathroom, then paused and looked back over his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Hana hesitated, clutching the sheet to her chest even though he’d already seen—and used—every inch of her body.

“Now, Hana.”

The command in his voice made her move before she could think. She stood on shaky legs, leaving the sheet behind, and followed him into the small bathroom.

The space was cramped—barely enough room for two people. A standing shower with a glass door that was clouded with soap scum. A toilet. A small sink with a mirror above it that Hana deliberately avoided looking at.

She didn’t want to see what she’d become.

Raven turned on the shower, adjusting the temperature before stepping inside. Steam began to fill the small space almost immediately.

He looked at her expectantly. “Well?”

Hana’s feet moved on their own, carrying her into the shower stall. The moment the hot water hit her skin, she let out an involuntary moan. It felt amazing—washing away the dried cum, the sweat, the evidence of her degradation.

Raven’s hands found her immediately. Not gentle. Possessive. His palms sliding over her thick body, washing her in broad, efficient strokes.

“Turn around.”

She obeyed, facing the tile wall as his hands moved to her breasts, soaping them thoroughly. His fingers found her nipples, rolling and pinching until they were hard peaks that sent jolts straight to her core.

“Ngh…” The sound escaped her throat without permission.

“Still sensitive,” Raven observed, his voice amused. His hands moved lower, over her soft stomach, down to the thick bush of hair between her legs that was matted with dried fluids.

His fingers combed through it, and Hana felt her face burn with fresh shame.

“When’s the last time you shaved?” he asked conversationally.

“I… I don’t…”

“You don’t shave?” His hand cupped her pussy, fingers pressing against her swollen lips. “Your husband really was useless, wasn’t he? Couldn’t even bother to maintain his wife’s body properly.”

Hana’s hands pressed flat against the wet tile, her breathing quickening. “It’s not—I’m old, there’s no point—”

“There’s a point now.” Raven’s other hand moved up, fingers finding the natural hair in her armpit. “Because I want to see everything. Every inch of skin. No hiding.”

Before she could protest, he was already reaching for something outside the shower. When his hand came back, he was holding a disposable razor and a small bottle of shaving cream.

Hana’s eyes went wide. “You can’t be serious—”

“Lift your arm.”

“But—”

“Lift. Your. Arm.”

His voice left no room for argument. Trembling, Hana raised her left arm, pressing it against the tile wall above her head. The position made her feel incredibly vulnerable—breast lifted, armpit fully exposed, water running down her side.

Raven sprayed shaving cream into his palm, then began working it into the dark hair under her arm. The sensation was strange—intimate in a way that felt more invasive than when he’d had his cock buried in her throat.

“Stay still,” he murmured, bringing the razor up.

Hana held her breath as the blade scraped against her skin. Slow, careful strokes that removed the hair in clean paths. He was surprisingly gentle, rinsing the razor between passes, making sure he didn’t nick her.

When he finished the first armpit, he moved to the second. “Other arm.”

She switched positions, and he repeated the process. By the time he was done, both her underarms were completely smooth—smoother than they’d been since she was a teenager.

“There,” Raven said, running his fingers over the newly bare skin. “Better already.”

Hana shivered at the touch, her nipples impossibly hard. The hot water, the steam, his hands on her body—it was overwhelming.

“Now the rest.”

Her eyes flew open. “W-wait, you don’t have to—”

“Spread your legs.”

“Raven, please—”

His hand grabbed her inner thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh. “I said spread them.”

Hana’s legs moved apart, widening her stance until her pussy was fully accessible. She could feel the water running down her thighs, could feel how wet she was getting despite—or because of—her humiliation.

Raven knelt in front of her, his face level with her pussy. From this angle, he could see everything—the thick bush of dark hair, her swollen lips, the way her entrance was already glistening with more than just water.

He worked the shaving cream into her pubic hair, his fingers massaging it in thoroughly. The sensation made Hana’s legs tremble.

“Hold onto something,” Raven advised. “And don’t move.”

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