He doesn’t give me time to adjust before withdrawing and slamming in again, his thrust doling out punishment and pleasure. I rock back, and he grips my hip, holding me in place. His grip is hard enough to leave bruises. He’s ruthless in his movements, drawing out my orgasm without mercy. This isn’t love; it’s possession, and I’m falling into it willingly. “Fuck,” he hisses when I squeeze around him, and a sharp slap lands on my ass. “You’re so tight.”
