"Yes," Dante breathed. Stubbed out his cigarette, immediately lit another. "Like that. Make her take it."
Atlas pinned her harder. One hand on her wrists, the other on her hip. Holding her in place while she struggled.
She thrashed. Fought. Made animal sounds of resistance.
But Dante wasn't satisfied yet.
"Make her c*m," he ordered. "I want to see her body betray her while she fights you."
Atlas's free hand moved between them. Found her c**t.
"No!" Novalee's voice was desperate. "Don't—please don't—"
His fingers circled. Gently. Even while his hips moved roughly.
She felt the horrible mix of sensations. The roughness. The resistance. And underneath, the treacherous pleasure building.
"Fight it," Dante commanded her. "Fight the pleasure. Show me how much you hate it."
She did. Thr
