Page 383 of Coal Hearts

I came excruciatingly hard.

I screamed.

I became a different person.

Nothing more than flesh and feeling as I impaled myself on him and gave him everything.

He grunted as if I’d ripped out his heart and crushed it in my bare hands.

He thickened inside me.

His rampaging hips almost shunted me through the wall.

“Goddammit,” he roared.

The crown of his cock pounded against my G-spot.

I didn’t stand a chance.

My second orgasm didn’t just detonate in my core but in my very spirit.

“Stop. Oh God. Oh God. Stop. Please stop.”

He was killing me.

Suffocating me by pleasure.

On and on.

My body fisted him.

Rippling.

Milking.

“Fuck!” The jerks as he came.

The shudders as he spilled inside.

Spurting deep, deep within—coating me, marking me, making me his.

A full body quake as he fed me his final drop.

Panting hard, he slammed his forehead against the wall by my ear as he struggled to breathe.

And that was where horror found me.

What we’d done.

How I’d felt.

What he’d called me.

And the awful truth about everything.

I felt as if I’d leap out of my skin.

My heart was a traitor.