36 - Breed Me
Damon
Seeing her face full of surprise and shock was euphoric. Seeing her try to fight me was even better.
“D-Damon, please no—mmgh!” I held her by the back of her neck and pushed her over the washing machine, bending her over.
“Shh,” I said, turning the machine on and spreading her legs. “Be a good kitten.”
I chuckled at her failed attempts to fight me. Her skirt was getting in the way, so I ripped off the tiny fabric and pinned her down with my weight.
“Damon?” I crooned, pulling out my c**k. “I thought it was Sir, you dirty slut.”
“Please, I can’t!” she whined, trying to push her back at me, but I kept my hand on her neck, lining my c**k against her slit.
“Shut the f**k up and take my c**k,” I growled, bending her over as the vibrations of the washing machine
