Asher
Sweat drips down my backbone, cool against my sizzling skin. I’m not sweating from exertion but from the strain of keeping myself in check. The urge to drive my c**k faster and deeper into Camila with every thrust is beyond tempting.
But when I look at her under me, I know I can’t.
She’ll shatter. She’ll break. I never expected to care about this before now. When I imagined pumping inside of her in the past—and I imagined it often—I was ruthless. In those fantasies, I made her scream—whether from agony or delight, I didn’t care. But now … I do.
Why?
Something digs painfully into my knuckle. It gets worse when I squeeze Camila’s fingers to hold her hands over her head. That’s when I see the ring I forced on her finger—the seal of our upcoming false wedding. A prickle begins at th
