We never left the bathroom.
Steam clung to the walls. The water had long gone cold, but neither of us noticed. Or cared.
I was slumped over the edge of the tub, arms limp, mouth open. Used. f****d. Twice filled and still aching for more.
He stood behind me, watching the way his c*m leaked down my thighs, chest rising slow as if deciding what to do next.
Then he grabbed me.
Fist in my hair. Yanked me up. Spun me around. Shoved me back against the cold tile, hard enough to make me gasp.
But before I could speak, his hand wrapped around my throat.
Tight.
Not playful.
Possessive.
“You look too f*****g calm,” he muttered, eyes wild, c**k already hard again between us. “That little mouth of yours needs reminding.”
I whimpered, fingers gripping his wrist, nails digging in not to stop h
