He didn’t slow down.
His body moved against mine with relentless force, each thrust deliberate, punishing, as if he was daring me to break first. His eyes never left my face, watching every reaction, every crack in my control. I tried to hold the sound inside my throat, biting down on it, but it slipped anyway, soft, broken, and humiliating.
I hated that he could pull it out of me so easily.
His hand slid down, firm and possessive, lifting my leg onto the desk. The position made me feel exposed, trapped between the cold wood and his body. My breath hitched as the angle changed, as the sensation sharpened, my thoughts scattering like I couldn’t gather them fast enough.
My mouth fell open.
The sound that escaped me wasn’t something I recognized as mine.
“You want more, don’t you?” he a
