Maximus

The sounds she made were quiet, almost shameful, but I caught every one.

The way her breath came in ragged little pulls, the way her back arched into my chest, seeking friction that I deliberately withheld. I liked the power of it, the knowledge that, for once, the only fight left in her was to keep from giving me the satisfaction of a full-throated scream.

I slowed the movement just to feel her try to stifle a complaint. She bucked, annoyed, desperate, so I pressed ...