Page 100 of Major Penalty

I hear him unzip his pants behind me, and my walls tighten in anticipation. I want him so bad it hurts. I want to show him I’m staying, that I’m not going anywhere. I want to lose myself in him and explain.

I turn my head to look back at him, but he presses a hand between my shoulder blades and pins me down.

“Say it,” he growls, his voice rough with restraint. “What did you do?”

“I didn’t tell you,” I whimper, hips twitching toward him.

He slides the thick head of his cock between my lips and slowly pushes into me. My moans mix with his groan into a twisted cocktail of pleasure and guilt.

The stretch, fullness, and sheer depth make my mind go hazy.

“What didn’t you tell me?” he snarls, pulling out halfway.

“Who I am,” I gasp as he slides back in, his left hand gripping my hip. He starts thrusting harder now, every word, every admission driving him deeper. His hand wraps around my throat, pulling me up until my back is against his chest. His cock is still inside me, dragging me into every thrust.

“And who are you, Irene?” he growls against my ear, and I say the first thing that comes to me.

“Yours.”

“Fuck,” he curses under his breath and bites down on my shoulder, not hard—possessive.

I’m gone, completely his. His hand finds my clit and rubs tight, punishing circles as he pumps his cock in and out of me. I can feel the thick head poking against that sensitive spot each time he pushes in.

“Should I make sure you don’t forget it?”

I nod desperately, instinctively lifting my hands to bury them in his hair.

His grip tightens around my throat, his cock hammering into me like he’s marking me from the inside out.

His fingers pick up the pace on my clit until I’m overcome with so much pleasure that I come. Hard.

I scream his name, convulsing around him, hands pulling him closer by his hair. My body gives out, my head falling back against his shoulder. The waves of pleasure wash over my body with each slow thrust of his hips, each push of his cock deeper inside me, drawing it out until I have nothing left to give.

Slowly, he lets go of my throat, and I almost collapse against the cushions. His arm wraps around my waist, holding me up.

He pulls out of me and flips me onto my back again like I’m weightless. He leans over me, holding himself up with his left hand, his right one brushing a strand of hair away from my face.

“You’re so beautiful,” he rasps out. His eyes are wild and focused like a storm aimed straight at me.

I try to speak, but no words come. I’m completely spent.

“I’m not done with you yet.” He spreads my legs open and drops to his knees in front of the couch like I’m an altar he’s about to desecrate.

And just like that, I realize what he’s doing. He wants to punish me with pleasure.

Oh my God.

He wraps his arms around the back of my legs and pulls my butt to the edge of the couch.

“Ares, please—”

He cuts me off by covering my clit with his mouth, pulling a desperate shriek out of me. My body arches into his touch, begging for more but unsure if I can take it.

His tongue works with greedy precision, like he’s starved and I’m the only thing that can satisfy the craving. He grabs my wrists and pins them down above my hips, locking me in place.

“Take it,” he growls against my pussy.

“I…I can’t,” I pant, shaking my head from side to side, yet my hips lift to meet every single lap of his tongue.

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