Breaking the Bully

by Jessa Kane

I’m barely coherent from the magnitude of my climax when Moore starts to rut into me with sharp upward slams of his hips—and he’s so big, it hurts. He’s right at the edge, rigid as steel, no give to his flesh whatsoever. “Hurts,” I whine. “So good. So fucking good.” He digs his fingers into my buttocks and holds me steady for the next roll of his hips, the pressure inside me mounting, splitting me in two. “Ahhhh. Shit. You drenched me, Allie. So fucking hot. I’m going to come to hard.” “You’re too big. It’s too big.” “What?” I watch him struggle for awareness, his eyes unfocused as he searches my face. “Too big…” “It hurts.” Horror wars with lust. “No. No, I’ll stop.” A shudder passes through his big frame and he pants a breath, stopping causing him visible pain. “I’ll pull out.” “No.” I tighten my legs around his hips. “Just go slow.” “Slow.” He nods vigorously, laser focused on my face, as if he’s now afraid of breaking me. “You’re sure, baby? You’re sure?” “Yes.” I kiss his mouth to reassure him and he groans, melting at my touch, slowly rolling in and out of me from below—and it still hurts, but the discomfort is manageable with his mouth on mine, when I can experience first hand how badly he needs relief, his shaft swollen and rock hard inside of me. It’s an effort to keep the easy pace, the muscles on his neck straining, perspiration breaking out on his forehead.