Wrecked

Katya

Ferrara De Castello wrecked me.

And owned me.

It was there in his kisses: the way he grabbed my hair and sucked my lips like they were made for him, his hands possessively tugging me towards him.

I went, surrendering as whimpers tore from my plundered lips, my body shivering as goosebumps washed through me.

And it wasn't from the cold.

He kissed me with raving maddening hunger, his scorching hot tongue plunging into my mouth.

Ferrara drove me wild with desire, his breathing ragged as he drove his tongue repeatedly into my tongue like a cock, fucking my mouth with fast rhythmic strokes.

I wasn't breathing properly when he wrenched his lips away, his pulling my plump bottom lip with him.

I panted for breath for minutes, my mouth tingling when he finally released it completely, my eyes wide and glazed, unfocused.

"Wh..what was that?"

This man turned me into a quavering mess. It took seconds to realize I had said those words, or rather, stuttered.

But there wasn't a hint of mockery