"Fiona Velmera!" he growled, his hands gripping my hips so tight I knew I'd bruise, but I loved it. The kitchen counter dug into my back, but I didn’t care. My red lingerie was ripped, barely hanging on, and his escort-boy outfit was half undone, his cock driving deep inside me.

"Yes, baby—yes! I love it! Fuck me harder from the back! Smack me—I want it rough!" I screamed, my nails clawing at the counter. His eyes burned with hunger, his body slamming into mine like he owned me. And right then, I wanted him to.

"Come here!" His voice was rough as he yanked me off the counter, carrying...