"Oh--Marcus--God--"
Her voice cracked. Her nails raked down his back. He held her there, open, offered, and started to move--deep, punishing strokes that felt like he was rewiring her from the inside out.
"Say it," he hissed, leaning in, his mouth brushing her jaw.
"Say whose p***y this is."
"Yours," she cried.
"It's yours--Marcus--it's only ever been yours--"
"You want everyone in this f*****g forest to hear?"
"How you bounce on this c**k like it was made for you?"
He slammed deeper.
Her back arched, legs wrapped around him, and she shattered--again--clenching around him so tight he growled into her neck.
Every inch of him throbbed inside her, and her body--wrecked, swollen, wet--refused to let go.
She could feel her own slick mixed with him, dripping down the crease of her ass
