One Thrust Man 소설 & 이야기

Thrust in—rough, deep—one hard stroke that buried him completely. Riley cried out—sharp, raw—echo bouncing off the windows. He fucked her hard—fast, punishing slams that rocked the couch, leather creaking under them. One hand fisted in her hair—yanked her head back so her spine arched, throat exposed. Other hand dove between her legs—fingers finding her swollen clit, rubbing fast, merciless circles.

Unexpectedly, Sergeant Thorne's hand grabs the back of my neck, as if he's going to pull me towards him and kiss me to death, but instead of doing that, he tightens his grip and steps aside to throw me to the ground hard, hurting me and causing a sound in me so horrible that it sounds faintly like a pig having its throat slit. My hands try to break my fall but because everything happens so fast, they get buried under my torso, my butt is left in the air and my face crashes into the dirt. "150 push-ups. Now," Thorne orders, before I can even settle properly on the floor. Although I knew that some reaction I was going to provoke with my chatter, I never imagined such a violent reaction to an o

Darkness was coming with skin-to-skin slaps, then pulling the kneeling man up, arching his back, as he came, nonstop, squirts in a row, amidst skin-to-skin slaps. Amidst skin-to-skin slaps, waves of energy, he enveloped their bodies, in each thrust from inside and out, with deep, hard thrusts, in-between thrusts, slamming towards his prostate with force. Until turning the smaller man onto his side, as he was pounding inside him, holding his right leg above his, with thrusts, then slamming back and forth, with thrusts, in and out, until the men came again, together, in between the beats, he sucked him, pulling his face with his lips.

“Good boy.” They didn’t prep me gently. Didn’t give me time. Thorne pulled his fingers free, lined up, and slammed in to the hilt in one brutal thrust. My scream echoed off the stone walls, raw and animal. He didn’t wait—started pounding immediately, hips snapping with punishing force, the headboard cracking against the wall in rhythm. Ryk watched, stroking himself lazily, eyes glazed with lust. “That’s it. Take your first real cock like the slut you were born to be.”

Throne's voice echoes in the empty packhouse living room as he roars, "I gave you orders to stay inside!" The next thing that happens is done on pure instinct. One second I'm on the floor catching my breath, and the next I spring at him, throwing two punches. The first one hits and the contact Thorne's hard torso makes with my hand is like hitting a wall. The next punch is aimed at the side of his face but he catches it in his palm easily. Thorne holds my gaze for a second before he shoves me back forcefully. My back hits the wall with a thud and pain explodes behind my head as I crumple back to the floor again.

She was defective—' Torin hauled him up by the collar, slamming him against the wall. 'Defective? She slaughtered your rogue allies like vermin.' His fist plunged into Thorne's gut, twisting intestines until they spilled out in steaming loops. Thorne retched, choking on his own fluids, eyes rolling back as Torin finished him with a punch that caved in his chest, ribs shattering like brittle branches.

"Perfect, she's so fucking perfect." He started moving in deep steady thrusts that hit spots inside me I didn't know existed. The vines kept me suspended at the perfect height that all I could do was take it. Thorne moved behind me. His hands gripped my ass, spreading my ass cheek. "Wait," I gasped. "I've never—" "You will now," he said.

Then screaming. Sloane opened her eyes. Declan Pierce had the old man's wrist in one hand. He'd caught the brick mid-swing, redirected it, and now he held that wrist at an angle that made her stomach turn — controlled, deliberate, merciless. The old man's knees buckled. The brick hit the pavement. "Since you wanted something broken," Declan said quietly, "there you go." One smooth, surgical motion. The wrist snapped. The old man's scream tore up the block. Sloane didn't move. Couldn't. The sound was so close and so wrong — she'd never heard a bone break in real life, and it turned out real life was nothing like the movies.

It was strange the kind of power I felt radiate off him. I was on the third bag, back against the door with my chest rising and falling, "I'm not exactly allowed to hunt around here," I deadpanned, running my tongue over my teeth. "They could have brought you blood. They should know better than to starve a newborn," the man cursed under his breath but I paid no attention, focusing on draining the last of the blood. I wanted more. "Who are you?" "Thorne," he announced proudly and I quickly registered that he was the hellhound everyone had been droning about around the table.

It's easier to deal with one than to deal with more than ten rich humans. Nathan crosses over to my side and opens the door of the car for me. He stretches his hand out for me and helps me out of the car. "We're late" he grabs my hand in his and leads me inside of the big house. In the living room there's a long table with people on all the chairs except two chairs that's reserved for the both of us. I feel all the eyes of everyone in the room on us as we walk in and this makes me want to shrink to the ground but Nathan hands in mine gives me a drop of boldness.