"On your back," I commanded, my voice a low growl that cut through her fear like a blade through silk.
Her body, still trembling, obeyed instinctively. She scrambled back onto the worn Persian rug, its faded reds and golds a chaotic canvas beneath her. She looked up at me, her eyes wide, a mix of terror and a hunger so profound it was almost painful to witness, her chest heaving, nipples still stiff and glistening from my earlier mauling.
My cock danced free, heavy and hard, no longer confined, the weight of it slapping against my stomach with a wet thwack before settling, thick and veined, the broad head already weeping a steady stream of clear, slick precum that rolled down the shaft in glistening rivulets.
Another choked, strangled sound escaped her throat. It wasn't a shriek this time, but a deep, guttural gasp of pure, unadulterated shock, the sound catching in her throat as her pupils dilated until her irises were almost completely black.
