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But Evan has other ideas.
“You need to tell me what you fucking want me to do to you,” he demands. Before I can answer, he lifts my arms up above my head and presses me harder against the wall. “Do you like it rough and hard?”
My breathing is getting more and more shallow, and I’m not sure if his question needs an answer.
“Come on. Tell me, my fucking little vixen. Do you like it rough?”
I’m about to say yes when the words get caught in my throat because he’s pushed his massive cock into my most private hole.
For a few seconds, I can’t breathe, and my body is trying to get used to the sensation of being fucked there.
He pummels into me, slow at first. My hole is so tight I think I might tear. But it only takes two or three inward thrusts for me to push against him to try and get him further into me.
Fireworks are exploding in my head, and I fear I might pass out from pleasure.
“Come on, Meg,” his voice is commanding. “I need you to say it.”
“Yes,” I hiss. “I need you to fuck me rough and hard.”
There, I said what he wants to hear.
And then he comes. I can feel him shoot his load into me. His body’s pressed against mine as he shudders through his orgasm.
Just before he finishes filling me with his load, I come too. I come with such intensity that I drop my head down and let oblivion set in.
If Evan didn’t have a hold of me, I swear I’d collapse onto the floor of the shower.
As it is, he picks me up as my body continues to tremble with pleasure, and he carries me into the bedroom.
Gently, he lays me onto the oversized king bed.
“Let me guess?” I whisper in the midst of my amnesia. “Act III is about to start?”
