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I convulsed.
My knees stopped working.
God, yes please.
“Fuck you,” I snapped.
“As you wish.” He smirked.
I love you, his eyes whispered.
Tossing me onto the bed, he flipped me onto my stomach and flipped the hem of my dress over my back. Kicking my feet apart, he unbuckled, unzipped, and fisted himself.
My heart pounded in my ears, my fingertips, my clit.
Every cell in my body wanted to submit and arch for him.
I needed him to fill me.
I wasn’t whole without him inside me.
But I had a show to put on.
A show we’d perfected, and Victor had bought hook, line, and sinker.
Pushing up off the bed, I made to feint to the side.
He snatched me and threw me back down. “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”
Pressing a fist against my lower back, he kept me pinned.
“Get off me!” I struggled.
“Still so strong.” He dragged my hips off the edge of the bed. “Still so unbroken.”
“Get your fucking hands off me.”
“Either beg or scream. Your choice.”
I screamed.
He laughed.
Grabbing my ass cheeks, he spread me wide, and impaled himself deep, deep inside.
My pussy fisted around him, not making his takeover easy.
The pinch despite my arousal.
The thickness of his size.
It all pushed me into mania, and I lost it.
I fought the urge to surrender to him.
I forced myself to thrash and cry.
And my Master and twin flame understood both sides of me, both the act and the truth, the lust and the love. His fingernails dug into my hips as he grabbed me and pumped fast and fierce into my body.
