Helen POV
“Helen,” he panted, pulling to center my hips onto his lap.
I could only be manipulated, too weak to move and far too chained up to associate my body against his. He had it handled, though. He yanked me forward onto his hips and grinded our bodies against each other.
Panting, kissing, moaning—he wanted all of it. He wanted it now.
I tipped my head back as he tore my clothes off, uncaring of them anymore. I have so little outfit choices that the maids have brough into this room and I’m running out quicker when Justin does this. He doesn’t care.
He needs me now and I’m not going to stop him from that smoldering necessity.
I felt the wetness swell, his fingers taunting my s*x and pressing into it, against it, watching my face as I reacted to each movement. He was taunting me,
