Urban Plundering: I Corrupted The System!

The quiet reverence shattered.

She pulled him down, deeper, faster, her legs locking tighter behind him, urging—demanding—more. And Parker obliged. The restraint left his eyes, and what replaced it was hunger. Not animalistic, but divine. A craving forged in lifetimes, centuries of being apart, now melting into this bed, into these sheets, into her.

He gripped her waist, and with one hard, devastating thrust, the room seemed to tilt. Her gasp became a cry, back arching as he slammed into her again, and again—slow no more, reverent no longer. She was his. He was hers. And the gods would watch.

"Parker—!"

Her voice cracked, a whimper, a scream—she didn't know anymore. She couldn't breathe without him inside her now. Couldn't think. Her hands clutched at his hair, his shoulders, his back, leaving red trails from where she raked her nails down, gasping as his hips snapped against hers with punishing rhythm.

She wanted more. Needed more. She took more.

"Harder," she begged, voice wrecked. "Faster—Parker, harder! Make me forget my name."

He kissed her collarbone, her neck, her throat—bit down, and she trembled. "You'll break."

"Then break me."

And gods, he did.

The bed groaned beneath them. Pillows spilled to the floor. The headboard slammed once, twice, and then lost count, and still he didn't stop. He drove into her like her body was the only home he'd ever known, and he'd been homeless for a thousand years.

His cock moved in and out inside her again and again, slick and impossibly hard, coated with everything she gave him, the sound of skin slapping against skin was relentless—violent, beautiful, primal.

Her pussy fluttered wildly as he held himself deep, her orgasm locking him in like a vice.

"You ruin me so good, you bastard."

"Stretch me—gods, stretch me more—"

She screamed again when he angled just right—stars exploded behind her eyelids. Her thighs shook. Her back arched so high he had to hold her down, grip her wrists, and she loved it. Her name was a litany on his lips, chanted between kisses and moans and grunts.

"Zhang Ruoyun—gods, you feel—fuck—"

She clenched harder, every thrust deeper now, wetter, messier, louder. She was drenched, wrecked, her hair sprawled like a halo on the bed. Their bodies slapped together, sticky and hot, divine and animal, heaven and hell in every savage push.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her flush to him, pounding into her with vicious rhythm, until her eyes rolled back, her voice gone, her body shaking, shattering beneath him as the climax tore through her with a sob.

And still—he didn't stop.

Her pussy fluttered wildly as he held himself deep, her orgasm locking him in like a vice.

Her body trembled so hard her legs nearly gave out, but he caught her, still inside, still thrusting.

She came again, and again, screaming into his shoulder, clawing at him, and he followed—finally—thrusting deep one last time with a guttural growl that sounded like thunder crashing through silk.

They froze there.

Both shaking. Still joined. Still twitching. His head fell to her shoulder, hers tilted into his hair, their breathing ragged like two storms collapsing into silence.

No one moved.

Not yet.

Not until Zhang Ruoyun, still panting, laughed softly, brokenly, and whispered against his cheek:

"…you're mine."

And Parker, barely able to speak, whispered back:

"I always was."

Zhang Ruoyun's fingers slid down his chest—slow, reverent. Like tracing the lines of a constellation only she could read. Her thighs were already bracketing his waist, her body still trembling from the storm he had dragged through her—but now it was her turn to call the lightning.

She shifted him in one full motion, and he didn't resist.

Parker lay beneath her, hair mussed, chest rising, his eyes half-lidded but burning gold beneath the haze. Lust, yes—but reverence too. A kind of still worship only she was worthy of.

She leaned forward and kissed him. It wasn't soft. It wasn't sweet.

It was a claim

Her lips devoured his, her tongue tasting the corner of his mouth before trailing down his neck, her hair cascading around his face like wildfire. And then she rose—arching her spine as she sank down onto him in one long, slow, unbearable slide.

She rode him like she hated him, hips slamming, hair wild, her moans twisting into curses.

Parker's head fell back with a groan, guttural and low.

"Ruoyun—"

She exhaled, the name curling off his lips in a breathless moan as she took all of him. Every inch. Deep. Heavy. Filling. Her hands pressed against his chest for balance, but her hips started to move before he could even recover.

The roll of her hips was elegant. Deliberate. Almost cruel in its slow seduction.

She rolled and then rose before she slammed on his dick, doing all at once.

"Look at me," she demanded, and when his eyes met hers—she dropped onto him hard.

Her breasts bounced with every grind, sweat glistening on her skin like warpaint.

"You're mine now," she whispered, hand against his chest as she impaled herself again and again.

She came without warning, a strangled scream ripping from her throat as her whole body locked and trembled on top of him.

But she didn't stop.

The second came quicker.

"Fuck~" The third had Parker cursing under his breath.

And then she began to ride him like it was her throne. Her temple. Her battlefield.

"So deep…" she gasped, voice cracking, "so fucking deep."

Her palms slid to his abdomen, bracing herself as she bounced harder, faster, wet sounds echoing through the room, each slap of skin to skin paired with her breathy sighs and Parker's harsh moans. Her breasts lifted and fell with every thrust, and his hands finally gripped her hips, trying to control the rhythm—but she slapped his hands away.

"No," she growled, head thrown back, eyes closed in ecstasy. "Tonight… I decide."

And god, she was merciless.

Her thighs flexed with power, her back a perfect arch, and she moved like a goddess—no, a conqueror. Her walls dragged on him in velvet pulses every time she lifted, then slammed back down, and Parker—immortal, unshakable Parker—was breaking beneath her.

"You're… so fucking tight—" he gasped.

She leaned down, kissed his lips, then whispered like a threat in his ear, "Then come undone."

And he did.

He flipped them suddenly, without warning putting her on all fours—her gasp was swallowed by his mouth as he buried himself inside her again, this time from above, crushing her to the mattress with raw, ragged thrusts that made the bed quake and the air taste like wildfire and lust.

"You're still dripping," he murmured, sliding back into her from behind, one hand gripping her hip, the other her throat.

She laughed—breathless, shattered—and wrapped her legs around him once more.

This was no longer sex.

This was ruin.

Zhang Ruoyun lay sprawled across the silk-drenched sheets, hair tangled, body flushed, her thighs still trembling from what he'd just done to her. But Parker wasn't done.

Not yet.

She felt him shift behind her—his palm pressing firm against the small of her back, wordless, dominant. Her breath caught.

"Again?" she whispered, voice cracked from moaning his name too many times.

You think I'm done?" he growled into her ear, slamming in again. "I'm not done."

The way she cried out when he hit that spot—it was like a drug, addictive and feral.

"Ahhh~ fuckkk~~ Parker~ yes, right there—don't stop!"

His reply was a kiss to her spine. Then another. Then one lower—until he was kneeling behind her, watching her body arch instinctively, hips lifting with need she couldn't hide even if she wanted to.

He gripped her waist—one hand splayed across her belly, the other trailing down her side, anchoring her in place as he slid into her from behind.

She gasped, her forehead buried in the bed, hands clawing at the sheets.

This angle was brutal. Deep. Intimate in a way that defied words.

Every thrust forced her forward, only to be drawn back against him again as though her body had been carved to fit his. The sounds were filth and worship—wet, rhythmic, primal—but in the silence between, there was something holy too. The way her breath trembled. The way his hand slid around to find her clit, circling her with maddening precision.

"Parker—" she moaned, voice cracking.

"I know," he said, low and urgent behind her. "Let go."

Her legs started to shake violently as he pounded into her harder now, chasing her release, his body slick with sweat, hair falling into his eyes, gritting his teeth with the restraint of a man on the edge. His fingers didn't stop moving.

And then—

She shattered.

She came without warning, a strangled scream ripping from her throat as her whole body locked and trembled on top of him.

Zhang Ruoyun screamed his name as her orgasm tore through her, thighs clenching around him, her entire body shaking, collapsing forward as her walls spasmed around him in rolling waves. Her voice broke, raw and undone.

He followed with a groan that sounded like surrender, spilling into her as her name left his lips like a sacred curse.

When it was over, he lay against her back, still inside her, their bodies tangled, breath shallow and shaking, souls straining to remember how to return to earth.

She didn't speak. She didn't need to.

And neither did he.

They just lay there, shaking, sweat-slicked and wordless, as the aftershocks rippled between their hearts—something far deeper than just release.

This wasn't sex.

This was memory.

This was home.