“Yes.” she sobbed, pushing back against me. “Yes, please.”
I pulled out, flipping her over. I needed to see her face. I needed to see her break.
I lifted her onto the table. She wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me back in. We moved fast. I held her by the throat. Her head fell back, her chest rising and falling, those mesh-covered breasts bouncing with every thrust.
“Look at me.” I told her.
She opened her eyes. They were wet. She looked wrecked.
“Say it.” I told her, driving deep and hitting a spot that made her toes curl. “Tell me what you are.”
“I am yours.” she moaned.
“No.” I corrected, grabbing her hair and pulling her closer. “You are a hole. You are a release. You are nothing.”
I felt her flinch, but she didn't stop. She dug her nails into my shoulders, scratching,
