With each stroke, I felt myself growing wetter, my arousal painting the bed beneath us in a testament to our shared passion. His eyes never left mine, the intensity in them only growing as he pushed deeper and deeper, his movements becoming more primal, more demanding.
The pain grew, but so did my need for him. I could feel my body stretching to accommodate him, my walls tightening around his c**k as he claimed me over and over again. His hands moved from my breasts to my hips, his grip bruising as he pulled me closer, forcing me to take him deeper.
My moans grew louder, filling the small room with the sounds of our passionate struggle. The pain was a delicious torment, a reminder that this was wrong, but oh so right. His eyes never left mine, the intensity in them growing with every thr
