I was still on my knees.
Face soaked.
Lips swollen.
Throat sore.
He stood above me, c**k glistening, half-hard again and twitching back to life. Still hungry. Still greedy. Like he hadn’t already used every inch of me.
“Turn around,” he said. Voice low. Commanding.
I did slowly hands on the floor, arching my back, offering myself like I knew what was coming.
He didn’t touch me at first. Just stared.
My p***y was wrecked. His c*m leaked down my thighs. I was red, swollen, marked from the slaps, the grip of his hands, the way he f****d me like he hated me.
Then I felt it his thumb.
Not on my c**t. Not on my p***y.
Lower.
Slipping between the cheeks of my ass.
I tensed.
He chuckled. Dark. Deep.
“You know what’s next.”
I swallowed hard. “You’re not even gonna prep me?”
Another
