Hands. They were punishing. He grabbed my waist with a feral grip, pulling me to him hard while he thrust into me even harder. The way we both needed it. There would be bruises in the morning from where his hands found purchase, but I didn’t mind. The day was the same as the one before as he took from my body, my heart, and my soul. In return, he gave himself to me the only way he knew how: with bruising hands, passionate kisses, and hard thrusts. His body was sin, his cock was sin, and I was a sinner. His hands moved up my thighs, his long, slender fingers playing my body, bending me to his will. They were a delicious torture, much like his words. His lips sucked at my neck, teeth digging in, making my eyes roll back. Another mark. I grinned. He loved marking me,… Read more »
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