Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 68858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
He hooked one of my legs over his forearm and then thrust back inside me, the height difference forcing me onto my tiptoes. I cried out in a mixture of pain and pleasure, my body struggling to adjust to the intensity of his invasion. He held me against the window and forced me to take every thick inch of him. It was rough, relentless, and completely unforgiving. My cries echoed through the room, a perfect soundtrack to the symphony of flesh slapping against flesh and the groans of lust that filled the air. I could feel my pussy dripping down my legs.
“Fuck. I need to be deeper.” He released my throat and turned me around, kissing me again. His tongue invaded my mouth with the same aggression and dominance as his thrusts. He lifted me up and carried me to the suite’s bedroom. He placed me on the bed and stepped back to remove his shirt, and then his slacks.
My eyes followed his every move, devouring the sight of his perfect, sculpted body. The way his muscles flexed and relaxed as he undressed himself was a sight to behold. It was a spectacle of raw masculinity. As soon as he was unclothed, he was reaching for me, dragging me to the very edge of the bed. He forced my hips to lift as he placed my legs on his shoulders. He was back inside me on my next breath, fucking me so hard I thought I was going to break apart. There was no relief from the pressure or how full I felt, he held me firmly in place. My hands clutched the sheets, my knuckles turning white with the force of my grip. I cried out his name and pleaded for him to stop, but he ignored my protests. It was as if he thrived on my pain, my resistance only fueling his desire to conquer me.
His rhythm became more unrelenting, his thrusts more brutal, as if he was trying to break me, to claim me completely. The room was filled with the sounds of our passion, and I found myself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. Part of me hated him for this, for the way he was taking me without care for my feelings. Another part had my pussy growing slick around him because of the way he was using me. There was nothing sentimental between us—just him wielding his power over me, and me being forced to take everything he gave.
His eyes locked onto mine, a mixture of lust and dominance in them. I felt powerless beneath him, my body responding to the brutal pounding he was giving me. My cries of pain and pleasure were muffled by my own moans as my body shook uncontrollably. I was going to come. I couldn't believe the intensity of the emotions coursing through me. I felt like I was on the edge of a precipice, about to tumble into an abyss of pure ecstasy. The man above me, with his rough, dominating demeanor, was driving me to the brink of insanity. I wasn't sure if I wanted to scream or beg him to stop.
“Look at us,” he demanded.
I glanced down at the sight of our bodies entwined, his cock thrusting deep within me, covered in juices and tinges of blood. There was no denying the intense pleasure I was feeling, despite the pain that accompanied it. There was something almost primal about the way we were connecting. He slipped my legs from his shoulders and hooked them over his forearms, allowing him to come closer and drive even deeper. I let out a gasp, feeling his dick hit a spot inside me that had my toes curling. I dug my nails into his shoulders, desperate to keep myself grounded, even as my body was careening toward a pleasure so intense it bordered on agony. His eyes never left mine, gauging my reactions, feeding off my desperation, and he moved his hips in time with my quickened breaths. The air around us crackled with electricity as the night grew darker outside. It briefly filtered through my mind this wasn’t solely about pleasure for him. He was diligently studying me, observing every twitch, every flush, every gasp, to gain more control over me. It made the situation even more suffocating, knowing that even in the throes of passion, he maintained his dominance. I struggled to stifle my cries of pleasure-turned-pain, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing how thoroughly his assault was affecting me.
I could feel my body tightening, the sensation building, a world away from the pain I had been experiencing just moments ago. I could see the victory in his eyes, his triumph in this game of control. A small part of me wanted to reach out to him, to beg him to stop, to make it easier, but another part of me wanted to keep playing this dangerous game. I wanted to see just how far he would push me, how far I could let him take me. My hands clawed at his back and shoulders, leaving deep marks that I knew would bruise in the morning. I squeezed my eyes shut, biting my lip to keep from crying out, but it was no use. A loud wail tore from my throat as I climaxed, my body shaking beneath him. He groaned; his own release imminent. He thrust once, twice, three times, each time hitting that spot deep within me that sent waves of pleasure cascading through me like a tidal wave.