Crush

“I promise passion, nothing more,” I said, wrapping my legs around him.

He looked disappointed.

I kissed him, biting his bottom lip as I pulled away, “Fuck me like you hate me,” then I cupped his jaw and whispered, “Fuck me like the right strokes will bend me to your will.”

“Can they still?”

I kissed him tenderly, my fingers roaming about the back of his neck. When I pulled back I saw it, that primal part of him.

From deep inside, his darkest desires rushed to the surface. He grabbed me by the hips and buried himself inside me, buried himself to the hilt, his nails applying pressure to my skin, his shaft serving deep deliberate strokes as he fucked me forcefully, his entire weight crashing into me.

I liked it there, laying vulnerably underneath him. I wanted him to crush me, crush me with the entirety of him







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