Steamy Encounters
“No,” she breathed, true panic seizing her. “Mark, don’t —”
“This is for the mess,” he said, his voice devoid of all mercy. The cold, rounded end of the handle nudged against her soaked flesh. It was so much broader than a finger, impossibly foreign. “And for the defiance," he completed before he pushed the handle of the knife inside her pussy.
The stretch was immediate and shocking. It wasn’t pain. It was a profound, overwhelming fullness. The metal was cool against her burning, clenching heat.
A broken scream tore from her throat as he worked it deeper, inch by relentless inch, filling her in a way that was utterly degrading. It was violation given shape and weight.
He seated
Bab Populer