Page 32 of My Ex-Military Biker

"You're in pain."

"I know, I don't care, keep going."

He holds my eyes for three long seconds, searching my face. Then he pulls out slightly and pushes back in, deeper this time.

I cry out because I can't help it.

The pain is real, undeniable. But underneath it is something else entirely, the overwhelming feeling of being filled, stretched, taken, claimed.

"Halfway," he says through gritted teeth, his voice wrecked. "You're taking me so good, doing so good."

Halfway. There's still more. I genuinely don't know if I can take more.

He pushes deeper and the pain sharpens considerably. I grip his arms hard, nails digging into his skin without caring if I leave marks.

"Almost there," he's shaking now, visibly holding himself back from just slamming in. "Almost... fuck."

He bottoms out completely, fully seated inside me. I'm so impossibly full I can't breathe properly, can't think, can only feel.

He holds perfectly still, letting me adjust, and his arms are trembling with the obvious effort of not moving.

"You okay?" he asks quietly.

I can't speak, can only manage a nod.

"Need a minute?"

"No. Move, please move."

"You absolutely sure?"

"If you ask me that one more time..."

He pulls out halfway and thrusts back in hard without warning.

I cry out sharply, the pain and pleasure mixing together until I genuinely can't tell them apart anymore.

"Like that?" He does it again, even harder.

"Yes."

"You want it rough?"

"Yes."

Something in his tightly held control snaps audibly.

He grips my hips with bruising force and pulls almost all the way out, then slams back in with real force behind it.

The impact drives me up the bed. I grab for something to hold onto, find his shoulders, dig my fingers in and hold on desperately.

He sets a punishing rhythm immediately, deep and hard and fast, not holding anything back anymore.

The pain is still there but it's fading rapidly, being replaced by intense pressure and pleasure building underneath all the stretch and burn.

"Fuck, you feel so good," his voice is completely wrecked now. "So tight around me, so fucking perfect."

He's rough with me, not remotely careful, taking me exactly how he wants to. His fingers dig into my hips hard enough I know there will be finger-shaped bruises tomorrow.