VIKTOR PAVLOV
Her moans echo off the marble walls of my private bedroom as I pound into her. Raw, high-pitched, needy, and pathetic.
She clawed at my back as she begged me to drill her harder. Like I won't forget her name the second I come. “Shut up,” I growl against her neck, dragging my teeth along her pulse. “You’re just a hole tonight, act like it.”
She whimpers. Not from pain but from desire. She was beautiful. I never f****d a woman who wasn't.
My hand closes around her throat, and her eyes flutter, her breath catching. I tighten my grip slowly as I watch the light flicker in her gaze like a dying star.
“That's it,” I hissed, “Look at me while I break you.”
Her legs tremble as her cunt clenched around me like she’s trying to keep me inside.
God, she’s married. To Don Luigi,
