Page 111 of Mario
His body blankets me, his skin hot against mine.
I am completely trapped.
A prisoner in my own bed.
"I said no," he says, warning clear in every word.
Then he pulls back, almost completely emptying me. The loss is so acute that I can't stop the cry that escapes my lips.
He slams back into me with a hard thrust that steals the very air from my lungs.
He does it again.
And again.
His hips snap forward, burying himself deep inside me with a force that is brutal. The bed rocks with the force of his thrusts, the headboard slapping against the wall.
This is nothing like I imagined. The dreams and fantasies I have had about this man have been good, but they pale in comparison to the reality. He is bigger, stronger, more dominant than I could have ever conceived. The pleasure is more intense, more overwhelming.
I am a mindless, whimpering mess, my body a vessel for his pleasure.
His pleasure.
Because this is for him.
This is what he wanted.
To see me lose control.
To see me beg.
To see me completely and utterly at his mercy.
I have given him that.
I have given him everything.
And now... he is taking what he wants.
He releases my hands and pushes my knees up towards my chest, spreading me wide, changing the angle of his penetration.
His cock hits a spot deep inside me, a place I didn't even know existed, and I scream, a long, drawn-out sound of abandon.
"That's it,bella," he growls, his voice a harsh rasp. "Let me hear you scream."
"Right there," I gasp. "Oh God, right there. More."
He hits it again.
And again.
Each thrust sends a shockwave of pleasure through my body until I am on the very edge of oblivion.
He is still moving inside me, deep, hard, punishing strokes that are pushing me to the very limit of what I can handle.
"Look at me," he commands.
His thrusts slow, becoming deep, grinding circles that are both satisfying and agonizing.
