CHAPTER 4
JENNER
“Up,” he ordered.
My knees ached, throat raw. “I can’t—”
“You can.” His grip on my arm was iron. He yanked me to my feet and shoved me back onto the bed. “On your back.”
“No—”
He pushed me flat, my hair spilling across the sheets. His scarred face hovered over mine, eyes dark with hunger.
“You’re ready,” he muttered. “I can see it dripping down your thighs.”
“Liar,” I spat, though my body betrayed me.
He spread my legs wide, the rough drag of his calloused hands making me shiver. “Open. Wider.”
I clenched my thighs. “Don’t touch me—”
His palm smacked against the inside of my thigh, sharp. “Wider.”
I gasped, heat rushing to my face, but my legs parted anyway.
“That’s better.” His c**k, still slick from spit and c*m, pressed against me. “Wet little cunt.”
“Don’
