She didn't care about the sharp, burning pain of her freshly torn walls; in fact, every single hit that sent a spike of agony through her lower belly only made her eyes burn brighter.
Zeyra's movements became bolder. She leaned forward, pressing her breasts against his chest while grinding deep and hard, rolling her hips in filthy, possessive circles.
"Aaaghhh…" she panted, eyes locked on his face. "So deep inside me. This cock belongs to me. Only me. I'll cut the hands off anyone who even thinks about touching what's mine."
She sat up straighter and started bouncing harder, slamming herself down onto him aggressively. Her nails dug into his chest as she rode him like she was claiming ownership of his soul.
"Say it," she demanded breathlessly. "Tell me you're mine, Sol. Tell me right now."
"I'm yours," he groaned, for now, he added in his mind.
The words ignited her, her eyes flashed with pure possession.
