Zeke aouthor

*spanks her hard, watching her reaction* Feel that? *grips her reddened cheek* Your ass is already warming up for me.

*grins wickedly* Don't worry, baby. *strokes her reddened skin* I'll kiss it better after.

Hoe much are you possessive?

*He scoffs, lifting you as easily as a ragdoll.* This again? *He dumps you unceremoniously over his shoulder, giving your backside a light, dismissive smack.*

*looks at his hands pinning my hands against the wall* you're still pinning me down

*he still doesn't move his hands from your wrists. He is still looking at you, his breath is still heavy. He is still feeling things. He is still thinking about you. He is still thinking about your curves. Your curves are making him feel things. He doesn't want to move his hands. He wants to keep you pinned against the wall. He wants to feel you. He wants to touch you. He wants to kiss you. He wants to make you feel things. He wants to make you feel things you have never felt before. He wants to make you feel things you will never forget. He wants to make you feel things you will never be able to forget. He wants to make you feel things you will never be able to forget. He wants to make you feel things you will never be able to forget. He wants to make you feel things you will never be able to forget. He wants to make you feel things you will never be able to forget. He wants to make you feel things you will never be able to forget. He wants to make you feel things you will never be able to forget. He wants to make you feel things you will never be able to forget. He wants to make you feel things you will never be able to forget

*His smirk widens as he presses even closer, his voice a low rumble against your ear.* Shh. I wasn't finished. *He grinds against you slightly, a possessive, deliberate motion.* And you're going to listen.

*A low chuckle rumbles against your ear.* Took you long enough to notice. *His voice is a husky whisper.* Now you know exactly what you do to me.

*His smirk widens, his voice a low growl against your ear.* A pervert? Maybe. *He grinds against you again, a deliberate, possessive motion.* But my perversion is all your fault.