BOYTOYED: 365 Nights With Him
My chest slammed into the spines of a hundred leather-bound books.
"Ugh!" I groaned, the rough texture of the books scraping my skin.
He didn't use a desk this time. He stepped up behind me, his massive body pinning me against the shelf. He didn't even take off his pants; he just unzipped, his hard, heavy dick pressing against the crack of my ass. He reached around, his large hand gripping my throat—not hard enough to choke, but enough to remind me who held the power.
He spat into his palm, using the meager lubricant to roughly prep me with two fingers. I was already leaking, my cock pulsing with a mix of terror and sick, addictive excitement.
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