The sporadic thrusting of his hips doesn’t fit into a rhythm and it’s clear that he’s only looking for his own end here. I suck my bottom lip into my mouth once more, holding back hisses and moans. Fuck, it actually hurts. The desk rocks violently as he pounds into me, his fingernails digging into my hips. The taste of copper overwhelms my senses. I’ve bitten my lip too hard, drawing blood. Blood… blood… blood. Gutting the deer crosses my mind. He has drawn blood, too. I can feel the harsh stinging of the small slits in my skin. I hate long fingernails on men. He should really get them
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