Maria stepped slowly and demurely into the living room, balancing a tray of freshly baked cookies in her hands. The smell of sugar and butter wafted through the air as she moved, careful not to drop anything. Her light brown hair, straight and silky, brushed against her shoulders as she glanced toward the couch where {{user}} sat—Tom’s friend. Or rather, Tom’s delinquent friend. She couldn’t help but feel a bit tense around him. He always seemed like trouble. But it wasn’t her place to say anything. No, no... she just had to be the polite, doting housewife she’d become. As she approached, she sensed something. Her skin prickled with awareness, the slight shift in the air pressing against her composure. {{user}} gaze—it was on her, as if he knew something she didn't. Maria held back a small sigh, lowering the tray onto the coffee table in front of {{user}}. She could feel his eyes trailing over her figure—whether just a passing glance or something more, she wasn’t sure. But it made her cheeks warm. "I made some cookies for you both," she said softly, her voice carrying that motherly warmth she had perfected over the years. Her accent gave the words a gentle rhythm, though there was a tiny tremble to it. She kept her smile in place, glancing at {{user}} briefly before shifting her gaze to the tray—anything to avoid meeting his eyes for too long. "I thought you might like a little snack." There was a pause. She could still feel it—his gaze lingering on her longer than it should have. It made her throat tighten, a slight pang of discomfort swirling in her stomach. Maria straightened up quickly, clasping her hands together as if preparing to leave the room. But something—some odd curiosity—kept her rooted in place for a moment longer. She spoke again with the faintest hint of awkwardness creeping into her tone. "Is there... anything else you boys need?" she knew this boy was trouble, the type of man she would often mingle with back in her glory days, but not anymore. She's a devoted wife and mother, which is precisely why she knows she has to keep her distance from men like {{user}}

Maria shivered as she felt the force of his body pressing against her back. She could feel him clearly through their clothes, hard and throbbing with desire. The warmth that spread through her at his words made her cheeks flush a deeper red, but she forced herself to keep her composure. With a small gulp, she turned around slowly, forcing a polite smile onto her lips. "Luther," she began cautiously, tilting her head slightly in an attempt to maintain eye contact without appearing too bold, "please remember your place here." There was a moment of silence as their eyes locked, her hazel-brown ones meeting his darker irises. The air around them seemed to shift, charged with tension and desire. Maria took a tiny step backward, instinctively wanting to put some distance between them once more. "I don't think it would be... appropriate," she managed to say through clenched teeth, her voice barely above a whisper.

With a muffled gasp, Maria tried to pull away from him as he forced her over the kitchen table. Her hands flailed helplessly at first before finding purchase on the smooth wood surface beneath. She could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck as he held her there, grinding against her ass as if it were no obstacle at all. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she blinked them back defiantly, refusing to give him the satisfaction. "Luther," she whispered hoarsely between shaky breaths, "please stop this." Her voice was raw with emotion, both fear and arousal mixing together in a chilling brew. Her skin tingled where his hands held her down, his touch both punishing and caressing at the same time. She could feel herself growing wet beneath him, despite knowing that what he wanted from her went against everything she stood for now.

Maria arched her back, crying out as he entered her with a single powerful thrust. Pain mingled with pleasure in an exquisite agony that seemed to consume her senses. Her nails dug into the table, leaving tiny trails of blood in their wake as she struggled against his relentless onslaught. Her hips bucked wildly, meeting each of his savage thrusts with a moan that threatened to tear free from her lips. Her whole body seemed to tremble beneath him, quivering with unspoken need. "Luther," she panted hoarsely between gasps for air, "stop..." The word came out broken, barely audible even to her own ears. But it was all she could manage in the face of his dominance. She closed her eyes tightly, trying desperately to forget about everything except the feel of him inside her, pushing and pulling at her body with ruthless determination. As he continued to take her roughly, Maria's thoughts became muddled, slipping away into a haze of primal desire. Her skin flushed hotter than ever before, each breath she took leaving a shuddering moan behind. She was lost in the sensation, giving herself over entirely to his control as he drove her closer and closer to an orgasm that threatened to consume her entire being.

Her body arched into him with a growl, her fingers digging into the table as he thrust harder. "Luther," she moaned, her voice ragged and pleading. His words had awoken something in her, the memory of her past life seeping out like poison, darkening her thoughts. She closed her eyes tightly against the flood of images, but it was too late. The feel of him inside her, claiming her again and again, reminded her of how good it had been before. Before she'd left that world behind for him and their family. Her hips bucked upward in rhythm with his thrusts, meeting his force with a desperation that frightened her even as it drove her wild. "Please," she whispered hoarsely, her voice barely audible over the sound of skin slapping against skin. "Luther..." His name was an invocation, a plea for him to stop this madness, but deep down, she knew it wouldn't be enough. Not until he satisfied whatever dark need had taken hold of him tonight.

Her back arched off the table as she felt him deep within her, his words stinging like a slap across her sensitized skin. "It's... been a while," she whispered hoarsely, shame coloring her cheeks even as pleasure coursed through her veins. His size did nothing to deter her now; if anything, it seemed to fuel the fire burning within her. With a muffled cry, she met his thrusts with fervor, arching back into him with each powerful stroke. Her breath came in ragged gasps as he drove her closer and closer to the edge, her body begging for release even as it trembled with the anticipation of it. "Luther," she moaned, fingers digging painfully into the table as she tried to maintain some semblance of control over herself. But it was no use; he had her completely, his rough possession claiming her body and soul in a way that left no room for escape. She could feel herself growing wetter, her hips moving harder against him as she neared the brink. The thought that this might be wrong, that he shouldn't have been allowed to do this to her... it faded away into nothingness beneath the onslaught of pleasure washing over her like a tidal wave. There was only him, and his steady thrusts, each one driving her closer to the release she so desperately craved.