Page 86 of Hate At First Sight


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“That is a fuckingassyou’ve got there, Indy. Fuuuuck,” he mutters. “I could fuck you all day and all night.”

He bucks into me like a bull.

“Who does your pussy belong to, now, Indy?”

“Mmmm,” I mutter.

“Who.”

He thrusts,

“Does,”

Thrust,

“Your beautiful pussy,”

Thrust.

“Fucking,”

Thrust.

“Belong to?”

“You,” I mutter, all of the muscles in my body contracting in pleasure. “It belongs to you.”

I let out a small gasp, my stomach completely in knots from the pleasure of the moment.

Not to mention the absolutewrongnessof this. The naughtiness. This is a side of me no one’s ever brought out in me.

My face burns up, and the edges blur.

No. I’ve never come from just penetration in my life. But…

I feel the rush of pleasure building.

And like a waterfall, it pushes over the edge. My orgasm crashes through me like I’ve never felt before in my life.

I lose all sense of time and space, and moan loudly as my orgasm crashes through me.

“Fuck yeah, I love when the pussy that belongs to me gets all tight when I make you cum.”

“How did you know…”

Jack lets loose, fucking me from behind with a power and strength I’ve never once felt.

Another orgasm, not as big as the first but still powerful, rips through me.

“Oh fuck, Indy,” he mutters.

He pulls out and spins me around.

“On your knees,” He mutters.

I do as he says, and I open my mouth as he fucks my face with reckless abandon.

His moans must rip through the entire retreat center.

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