Intensity

“You like that, don’t you?” she accused. Her hand slid from Sanneke’s rump and up over her spine, seeking out a handful of dark hair when it reached her head. It was the perfect handle to bow her back and force her pretty little face towards the ceiling. “Answer.”

She gasped as Jessica’s grip tightened. “It-- it’s-- been a while, Ma’am.”

"You like it,” she insisted. A familiar furious heat simmered in her heart and between her legs. It egged her on: the urge to claim and fuck and hurt, and make perfectly clear whose pleasure really mattered. She drove the dildo into San’s ass faster and harder each time. The sight of it pulling and pushing at San’s hole hit her like a battering ram, and her half-hearted facade of patience crumbled. “You like it,” she repeated. “Say it!”