He tied my bound wrists to the headboard.
I whimpered. Exhausted and so sore I just wanted to squeeze my thighs together and cradle myself. I couldn't take much more.
"I'm not your plaything." I moaned into the blankets.
"I know." He said, surprisingly. Leaning over my back and sweeping my hair over one shoulder to kiss the side of my neck and shoulder. Reaching around to cup the weight of my breasts.
I shuddered because I feared it would arouse him again and start the whole brutal process once more.
But he tenderly molded the soft tissue. Framing them with his large palms. Learning the feel and texture. He kissed down my back. Gripping my waist. I could feel his need already raging through him.
It's nearly midnight. The Mating Moon was in full power.
It was shocking he'd not alread
