Lawrence's throat was blocked, suffocating him.
It hurt a lot, Roy wrapped around him like a vine, driving sharp thorns into his nipples, back, and waist. Then he became a strangled prey, unable to think, difficult to escape.
No need for a mirror, Lawrence knew how disheveled he looked now.
Furious, he thrust in and out, venting all his strength and emotions onto Roy, wanting to see her lose control and beg for mercy. He should be above her, shouldn't he? Men have always been superior to women, and he had already undergone the secret rite of passage, making him a complete man.
But Roy still handled it with ease.
Even though she was being fucked to the point of rapid breathing and flushed cheeks, the light in her eyes remained cold. When Lawrence thrust too hard, she would slap him, using gentle yet mocking words to provoke him.
To keep him in line, she even tore away the loose waistband, slapping her palm directly onto his buttocks. The sound was loud and full of humiliation.
