When I entered the hotel room, Dylan was already there, sitting at the edge of the bed, eyes cast down, hands trembling. We hadn’t seen each other since our fight. I hadn’t said a word that night. I just left… and let the anger consume me.

And that night, in the alley, I told him everything. The stranger and how he took me — rough, faceless and without tenderness. Just sex. Cum. Emptiness. Dylan didn’t say a word. He just listened.

“If I come back,” I said, “it won’t be the same. You have my heart, Dylan. You always will. But the rest — my mouth, my pussy, my ass — they belong to other men. And you’ll watch. You’ll stay. You’ll accept. Or I walk away forever.”

He said nothing; just nodded. He understood. He chose.

At 10 p.m. sharp, I opened the door. The man stepped in without a word. He looked at me, then glanced at Dylan sitting in the chair, fists clenched. I was naked, ready, legs crossed on the bed.

I dropped to my knees in front of him. I undid his jeans slowly, my eyes locked on Dylan. My smile was for him. My hunger was for the other.

His cock was already hard. I wrapped my hand around it, felt it twitch, and without hesitation, took it deep in my mouth. Greedy. Wet. Loud. I moaned with every motion. My lips stretched, my tongue swirled, saliva dripped down my chin. I sucked like a starved slut.

“You see that, Dylan? Your little princess is just a cock-hungry bitch.”

He grabbed my hair, guiding me, pushing me down deeper until my eyes watered. And I loved it. I pulled off, panting.

He pushed me onto the bed, spread my legs wide, and his fingers slipped straight into my soaked pussy. He fingered me hard: deep, fast, rough. I screamed. My whole body trembled under his touch.

“She’s dripping just knowing you’re watching her," he said.

Then he flipped me over. Rough. On all fours. He grabbed my hips and slammed into me without warning. I moaned — loud, broken, submissive.

“Tell him, slut. Tell your boyfriend who owns you.”

“My heart is yours, Dylan… but my pussy, my mouth, my ass, they’re his. And theirs.”

He fucked me harder. The sound of his hips slapping my ass echoed in the room. He called me a slut. A bitch. And I arched more, letting him stretch me deeper.

Then he pulled out. Moved in front of me, cock dripping inches from my face. I opened my mouth, tongue out.

He came hard. All over my face. My cheeks, my lips, my forehead. I swallowed as much as I could with my eyes locked on Dylan. I licked my lips and smiled.

“That’s it, Dylan. You have my love. But the rest… is for them.”

He didn’t say a word. But he stayed.

And he will stay.