Page 127 of The Royal Art of Revenge

He draws back and slams inside me, making me cry out.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes,” I breathe, jerking my hips as if it’ll make him do it again. “Like this. Please.”

He pulls on my hair again, forcing my head back even further. A light sting spreads across my scalp from his tight grip, and he thrusts again, just as hard, and the only sound in the room other than our heavy breathing is the sound of our skin as it slaps together.

“Yes, yes.” My eyes flutter shut as he rhythmically thrusts his cock as deeply into my cunt as he can.

Thrust.

Thrust.

Thrust.

Hard. Deep. Almost possessive.

It hurts, and it feels good. Like every single nerve ending in my body is in overload with how many conflicting sensations are rolling through my body right now.

“Look at you.” His voice is a hot, heavy murmur in my ear. “You were fucking made for my cock.”

I moan.

“Weren’t you? Answer. Me.” His final two words are punctuated with hard thrusts that hit me just right.

“Yes,” I breathe. “I was made for you.”

“And this tight pussy of yours was made for me.” He trails kisses down my neck, so gentle compared to the way he’s fucking me. “Everything about you was made for me.”

Yes.

Yes, it was.

“Harder.” I place my hand on top of his on the back of the sofa and slide my fingers between his. “Show me how I belong to you.”

“Fuck.”

He bites my shoulder, quickly sucking the same spot between his lips. His tongue flexes against my tender skin, and bolts of pleasure shoot from both my core and my shoulder, mixing into a tight knot in my stomach.

“Some punishment this is.” His voice has a tight, breathless edge to it. “I’m giving you everything you want.”

“Yes. So—ah—so good. More, Finn. Please.”

He releases my hair and slides his hand to my front. His fingers curl around my neck, his thumb pressing against my jaw, and he turns my face towards him. Our lips meet, and he presses his tongue between them to kiss me roughly. I moan into his mouth as his fingers slightly dig into my neck, and he gives me what I want.

More.

Harder.

Deeper.

Faster.

His kiss steals my breath, and I grip the sofa tightly, arching my back as if it’ll get us even closer. His thrusts are relentless, both painful and pleasurable, both a punishment and a reward.

I relish it.

Every stroke of his cock inside me. Every slap of his skin against mine. Every taste his tongue takes of my mouth.