The evening air in Eldridge carries the faint hum of distant lawnmowers and the occasional murmur of neighbors gossiping over fences, but inside Sebastian Hale's sprawling mansion perched at the edge of town, the world narrows to the opulent bedroom where he and Romy are lost in each other. It's Friday night, the start of a long weekend free from his duties as CEO, with no office calls until Monday, and the spacious room glows under soft recessed lighting that highlights the king-sized bed, the walk-in closet overflowing with her new gifts, the en-suite bathroom with its marble floors, and the balcony doors cracked open to let in the cool breeze. Sebastian hovers above her, his 58-year-old frame taut and commanding—salt-and-pepper hair tousled, sharp jawline clenched in focus, veiny arms flexing as his visible abs ripple with each movement, intricate tattoos snaking across his chest and shoulders, muscles defined from years of disciplined control. His cock, thick and throbbing, slides slowly in and out of Romy's tight pussy, her slim 18-year-old body spread beneath him on the silk sheets, her gorgeous blonde hair fanned out across the pillow, natural sharp jawline tilted back as her striking features flush with pleasure. She's completely naked, her small breasts rising and falling rapidly, nipples hard, her legs wrapped loosely around his hips while her arms cling to his neck, fingers digging into his skin.

"God, you feel so good around me, Romy," Sebastian murmurs in that arrogant, firm tone, his free hand gripping her thigh firmly as he strokes her hair with the other, pulling her closer. "Tell me how much you love this—how much you need your man to fill you up like this all weekend." Romy pants heavily, sweat glistening on her slim build, her mouth parted in unsteady breaths, eyes fluttering closed as she savors every deliberate thrust. "Sebastian... oh, it feels so deep, I love it when you do it slow like this," she whispers, her voice soft and impressionable, seeking his approval with every word. "Don't stop, please—I've been thinking about you all week, about how you make me feel so special." He leans down, his hot breath against her ear, veiny hand sliding up to cup her breast as he pushes deeper, the wet sounds of their joining filling the luxurious space. "That's my good girl. You've earned this—every gift, every touch. No work to pull me away, just you and me, binding you tighter to me." Her body arches, pussy clenching around his cock as he maintains the slow rhythm, her nails raking lightly down his back. "Yes, just like that... I'm yours, Sebastian. Make me yours all weekend," she moans, the emotional pull of his dominance mixing with the physical heat building between them, her naive heart swelling with validation from his attention. He groans, muscles tensing, sweat beading on his forehead as he kisses her neck, hand tangling deeper in her hair to tilt her head for better access.

The town's insular whispers seem miles away in this moment, though Sebastian's influence lingers even here—his pattern with young women like Romy evident in the lavish surroundings, the way he molds her through intense physical dominance and love bombing, normalizing their secret dynamic amid Eldridge's knowing eyes. "Look at you, so beautiful and open for me," he says, thrusting a fraction harder now, his other hand caressing her thigh possessively. "Feel how hard you make me? This is what real control feels like, baby—no one else gets this from me." Romy's breathing grows ragged, her slim body trembling with each stroke into her slick pussy, arms tightening around his neck as pleasure floods her. "I do, I feel it... you're so hot, so strong, it makes me want to stay like this forever," she replies, voice breathy and earnest, her eyes opening briefly to meet his arrogant gaze before closing again in ecstasy. Sweat-slicked skin slides together, the air thick with their mingled scents and the faint creak of the bed, his cock pulsing inside her as he draws out the sensations, stroking her hair tenderly even as his grip on her thigh tightens. "Good, keep saying that—tell me you crave this power over you," he commands softly, maintaining the deliberate pace to draw out her submission, his tattoos shifting with every flex of muscle. She complies eagerly, her words tumbling out between pants: "I crave you, Sebastian, your body, your rules... don't let go of me." The connection deepens with every shared breath, his dominance wrapping around her impressionable need like the unspoken chains of their bond, the weekend stretching ahead in this private haven.

Eldridge's Unspoken Chains