A drop of pre-cum glistens at the tip.
I can't help it.
I get wetter just watching him.
He lowers himself slowly, his hand running over each healing bruise on my ribs, my hips, my thighs.
He kisses them.
One by one.
Like he's worshiping every markon my body.
"I'm going to show you how much I'll fill your void," he says, and there's a darkness to it that makes me shiver.
I run my hand down his chest as he hovers above me, muscles taut.
Then I reach lower.
I grip his cock—thick and hard in my hand.
Fear rises, but not from him.
From how big he is.
I'm afraid he could hurt me.
But that's what makes me want him more.
I love sexual pain.
A grunt tears from his throat.
He looks down atme, jaw clenched.
"You sure?" he asks again.
I nod with a smirk.
No hesitation.
No fear.
"Yes."
He kisses me then, hard and passionate, his tongue sliding against mine.
And as we kiss, his hand slides down my chest, over my stomach, between my legs.
He slides two fingers into my pussy slowly.
A moan tears from my throat—he's already found my g-spot.
"That's my good girl," he says, voice rough with possession. "Nice and wet, just how I've always wanted to feel you."
He moves his fingers slowly in and out, building the pressure.
I lose my grip on his cock, unable to focus on anything but the sensation.
