Page 59 of Imprisoned

“Such a pretty sight.” I admire the way her ass opens up for me, beckoning. Taking a firm grip on her hips, I drive into her in one smooth stroke, burying myself deep in her ass.

We both groan, the pleasure overwhelming. Her ass envelops me, and I feel her muscles clench tight around my cock.

She’s fucking perfect.

Leaning over her, my lips find her ear. “You like that, don’t you? Like having my cock in that tight ass.”

“Yes,” she moans. “More, Axel, please.”

I pull out slowly, watching her muscles cling to me, then slam back in harder this time. She cries out, her head falling forward as I pound into her. Her ass is so damn tight, clenching and releasing me with each thrust.

I slam into her, my hips a blur. Her fingers scrabble at the desk, knuckles white, trying to hold herself up as I take her.

Fucking her like this, with the light flooding her body, I feel drunk on the sight. Her hair falls over her face, and I grip it, forcing her head back so I can see her expression. Her eyes are closed, her mouth open in a silent cry. My dick pulses inside her, loving the way she moans and bucks against me.

“Look at you.” My lips twist in a half-smirk as I tug her hair. “Taking it like a perfect anal slut.”

At my words, she glances over her shoulder at me. I pull out and thrust deep again. Her cheeks are flushed, her lips swollen from my bites, tits swaying with the force of my thrusts.

“I fucking love your tits.” I groan, grabbing one beneath her and squeezing. “Gonna mark them up good when we’re outta here.”

She whimpers, pushing back against me. “Axel, please... more.”

“More?” I chuckle darkly, my hands sliding down to her hips. “I’m giving it to you good. You can take it so hard, can’t you? I knew you were a little freak.”

“Yes, I can take it. More, Axel.”

At her words, a possessive growl rumbles in my throat, and I press my hand between her shoulder blades, forcing her upper body down until her forehead rests on the desk. She presses her ass back, her body offering itself to me instinctively.

I rear back, slamming my cock into her over and over, her ass swallowing me up. My weight is on her, holding her down as she takes it so fucking well. With each thrust, her ass clenches around my cock, massaging me, driving me wild.

She’s fucking beautiful like this, submitted and wrecked. Her ass is flawless, the curves of her cheeks tempting me to bite down and brand her with my teeth. Her moans fuel my need to mark her, to leave a trail of bites and scratches that scream she’s mine. My Willow.

“You like that, don’t you?” I nip at her shoulder, teasing her ear with my tongue. “Like getting fucked by a psychotic inmate. My thick cock buried deep in that tight ass.”

“Yes.” Her voice breaks as she pushes back, urging me on.

My balls slap against her with each thrust, the sounds echoing in the small room. The scent of sex fills my nostrils, that musky aroma of our desperation.

“You’ve been waiting for someone to handle you like this,” I growl, my grip firm enough to leave evidence of my possession. “Someone who won’t treat you like you’re fragile, haven’t you, baby?”

“Yes,” she hisses. “Harder, Axel. I want it harder.”

Her words send a surge of lust through me, and I oblige, taking her with all my might. The desk shakes with the force of my thrusts, objects tumbling to the floor.

Neither of us cares.

I grip her hip with one hand, reaching around with the other to find her clit, rubbing hard circles. “Come for me. Let me feel that tight ass clench around my cock.”

My words push her over the edge, that tight ass clenching around me like a vise. “Axel!” she cries out, her voice piercing the air.

I slam into her a few more times, feeling my release building like a freight train. With a primal roar, I spill myself into her, jet after jet, claiming every inch of her. I groan, my head falling forward to rest against her back as I ride out the waves of pleasure.

We’re both panting, sweat-slicked, my cock still embedded in her ass. Slowly, I pull out, and she collapses onto the desk, her body splayed out, a portrait of debauchery. My marks are all over her, and I feel pride.

Stepping back, my eyes drink in the sight, committing it to memory. From the disheveled hair to the bite marks on her neck and shoulders, she’s a work of art—my art.

Straightening, I force my breathing steady, taking control of my body again. I glance at the destroyed office, the papers strewn everywhere, and a grin spreads across my face.

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