The leather of the sofa was cool against my overheated skin, a stark contrast to the hot, possessive weight of Marcus’s body behind me. I was bent over the arm, my ass in the air, my face pressed against the expensive, buttery-soft cushions. My hard cock was trapped between my body and the sofa, the friction almost too much to bear. I was completely exposed, completely vulnerable, completely at his mercy. My heart was a frantic drum against my ribs, a wild, chaotic rhythm of fear and pure, undiluted lust. I heard the sound of him moving behind me, the soft rustle of his clothes. I didn’t dare look. I just waited, my body trembling, my hole clenching in anticipation. I could feel his eyes on me, on my most private place, and the feeling was so intense it was almost painful. “Look at that,” he murmured, his voice a low, appreciative growl. “That’s a pretty little hole. All tight and pink. Just waiting for me.” I felt his hands on my ass, his grip firm and possessive. He spread my chee
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