Demyen doesn’t hesitate or ask for clarification. In one swift, smooth move, he braces his arms around my back and sits up, holding me onto him as he does. His mouth covers mine and I feel only the slightest shifts between us but then I’m on his lap again. Still grinding. Still pulsing.
“I’m here,” he breathes. “I’m right here, baby. I’ve got you.”
I nod. It’s harder to fully slide up and down at this angle so I just grind and writhe and ohmygawd does that make my toes curl.
“You’re not his s*x slave.”
I freeze.
But Demyen holds me to him, kissing my neck and sucking on my earlobe as he continues to whisper things I need to hear right when I literally cannot run away from him.
“You’re not his s*x slave. You are not anyone’s slave. You are strong, you are beautiful, you are so f*****g
