Anastasia laughed breathlessly before she wicked and I could tell she was already plotting how she'd make me pay later—and that sound shattered the final filament of restraint I'd been pretending still existed.
I spun her body once more and put her front against the cool obsidian-and-gilt curve of the island so I could chart every obscene contour of her like freshly claimed dominion I had zero intention of relinquishing.
The heavy raging insistence of my cock pressed between us, wedged tight against the sublime swell of her rear like a weapon demanding war, yet I disregarded it entirely like it was not arching to enter her.
This morning existed to imprint upon her—and upon me—precisely who commanded every arc, every desperate tremor, every unrestrained and cock-hungry utterance about to tumble from her lips.
