Proserpina

Lucien was as good as his word. I woke up sore the next morning,

‘Sore and well f*cked,’ growled Lucien as he leant over me, kissing me on the mouth hungrily, his hard member demanding more pleasure when I protested, laughing.

*

As soon as we had returned from dinner, he shut the door, locking it securely, without taking his eyes off me. I felt a warmth steal over me.

Yawning leisurely, I stretched my arms above my head.

“Take off your clothes,’ he growled as he pulled out his long, thick member.

I obeyed him, feeling the wetness pooling between my legs in anticipation of his treatment.

I...