Thane
I must be some sick masochist to put her in that outfit.
And even more of a masochist to let her grind on top of me to the point of physical pain.
But fuck, the blue balls were worth it to watch her lose control of herself.
To watch her ride me until she came. I can still hear the sweet sound of her moans, but as much as I loved the sound of them, I now find myself wanting to hear her scream my name.
Not from fear, but from pleasure. I want her voice to grow raspy from begging for more, and her legs to shake as she comes with me still inside her.
Until I have that, I’ll just be torturing myself.
And no doubt, that’s exactly what will continue to happen.
After what I did yesterday and what I have planned for tonight, her hatred for me is only going to grow.
She may have lost control, but the look on her face told me she regretted every second of it.
The only reason she feels any kind of lust toward me is because of the mark.
If it weren’t for me biting her, she’d only ever feel disdain for me, and the truth of that shouldn’t bother me, but it does.
In fact, it does more than bother me. It eats away at me day and night.
Everything I do is to make her life more miserable, and yet some twisted part of me wants her to look at me like I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to her.
It’s like she’s got her own set of sharp claws, and she’s dug them into my fucking soul.