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I’m on my feet and running back to the pavilion before I can register what I’m doing, my body at war with my wants and needs.

“I told you not to run from me, Cinnamon.” Orzo is already behind me before I can hop back up on the pavilion. “You have to say the word stop, Cinnamon!”

He bends me over it and his cock is there again. Right at my entrance.

I don’t want to say stop. I don’t want to end this. I can handle his massive fucking—

One of his hands buries in my hair, forcing my head down onto the sheet on the pavilion, the other lands in front of my lips.

“Spit,” he tells me, yanking my head up to his hand.

My nipples scratch against the sheet in an oddly pleasurable way with just the bite of pain.

I spit into his hand. He pushes my face back down.

“Good girl. Now you’re going to take my cock. What do you say if it’s too much?”

I whimper as the head of his cock buries back into me.

“You say stop, understood?”

When I don’t answer, his hand tangles tightly in my hair, lifting me up.

“I understand,” I whine. “I can—I can take—”

“Rub your clit,” Orzo commands.

I know I need to, and I listen to his order. As soon as my fingers are on my clit, he grunts his approval.

“Just like that.” He pulls me up a bit further by my hair until my breasts are in reach, and he uses his free hand to grab my nipple, pinching and squeezing until it hardens to a sharp point. “Oh, you like that?”

He pinches a bit harder, and pleasure rockets off directly to my cunt.

The moan falling from my lips is involuntary.

He takes my distraction.

And then he is slamming into me. His cock sinking all the way inside.

I am coming before he makes it all the way in, and then I am screaming.

“Hush, I can feel you milking it. Fuck, you took all of me in one thrust. You think I can fill you just a bit more?” The hand on my breast trails to my mouth. “Make these wet for me.”

He sticks his fingers in, and I suck on them. When he pulls them free, there is a trail of saliva.

He pumps into me, and I can feel that he is making room for himself. I don’t know what he’s going to do, but then I feel the pressure on my ass. On the tight rim of muscle.

“Ever have anyone in here?”

“No,” I pant, attempting to slump forward, but his hand in my hair keeps me in place.

“Good.” He presses a digit in, and I can feel the stretch.

Unique. Painfully exquisite. Deliciously heady.

My muscles tighten again. Preparing to force me off the edge.

“I’m going to fill you up, Cinnamon. Remind you that no matter who or where you wander to—” He offers a few rolls of his hips. “You are mine.”