My body tightened as he came close, my sex glistening, my breaths of fear turning into breaths of arousal. I hadn’t seen him in the flesh since our conversation outside his home, and now that he was mine again, my fingers were anxious to grip those muscles, my thighs were anxious to squeeze his hips. I wanted his passionate kisses. I wanted him to whisper beautiful things to me in French as he claimed me as his. I’d missed this, and I hadn’t felt that quite as strongly as I did now.

On his knees, he looked down at me, but he didn’t separate my thighs with his knees. His hands gripped my hips, and then he quickly flipped me over. His fingers fisted my hair and pressed my face hard into the pillow as he lifted my ass into the air. Then he gripped both of my wrists and held them together at the small of my back, like I was a prisoner. His dick slid through my tight opening then slammed in with a hard thrust.

I shifted forward and let out a moan, my hands automatically wanting to break free, but were unable to move. It was a shock to feel that size deep inside me, that thick and throbbing rod of flesh.

His hands tightened on my body like reins to his horse, and he slammed into me hard, smacking my headboard against the wall, giving quiet moans as he pounded into me like I was a whore.

I imagined his face above mine, kissing me as he rocked into me, brushing his nose against mine as he looked into my eyes and slid all the way inside before he pulled out again. I imagined it slow, with our quiet breaths floating to the high ceiling and echoing back to us.

This was carnal.

Vicious.

Animalistic.

It wasn’t what I wanted—but I came anyway.

When he was finished, he immediately released his hold then moved away.

I lay there, a crick in my neck from the way my face had been thrust into the pillow. It hadn’t bothered me in the moment, but now there was a definite ache. I heard him get off the bed and grab his clothes.

I lifted myself and looked at him, naked and covered in his sweat, his come dripping out of me.

Without giving me a glance, he pulled on his clothes and left.

He took me once, got off, and then just left.

Fender and I hadn’t spoken once since I’d come here. I’d expected pillow talk after sex, but he got what he wanted then departed like there was no reason to stay. His office door was closed, and he didn’t join me for lunch.

He only wanted me for one thing.

He came again the next night.

After his full week of ignoring me, I hadn’t expected to see him again for a while.