A strangled gasp fills the ER from the force of Frost’s re-entry, your mouth cracked open as he lunges into you with a hard, unforgiving stroke. He doesn’t pause for your answer, doesn’t give you time to adjust or think before hoisting you on his cock again, like a flag in forced surrender. The resulting smack is vulgar. Crass. And yet, while your ears burn from the sound, your core burns even hotter.

His large hands find your ass cheeks from behind, biting into your skin as he picks up the pace.

“What did I tell you?” One question. For the third time.

I don’t like repeating myself…

A chaotic blend of sobs and whimpers escapes your throat, mirroring the torrential storm of terror, overwhelm, and unwelcome arousal coursing through you. His baritone vibrates with aggression, shaking your suddenly fragile frame. This position is dangerous. He’s too big. Too deep. Too thick. You can feel each ridge of vein brush inside you ceaselessly, hot and hard — a fleshy rod of steel you somehow both cannot take and need more of. Your pussy clutches at him, fiercely clamping down against your will, spilling hot moisture with every thrust.

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