Kill Switch by Penelope Douglas

“Can you be gentle?” she asked, tears in her throat.
I shook my head, still not looking at her. “I don’t do
gentle,” I said. “But GGod, baby, you are tearing me apart right
now.”
She threaded her fingers through my hair.
“The less special I make this, the less you’ll be hurt,” I
offered.
I knew she didn’t know what I was talking about. But the
only thing she said was, “You promised to hurt me. Don’t stop
now.”
“I’m afraid to…” I couldn’t catch my breath all of a
sudden. “I’m afraid I’ll make you—”
“I’m not dirty,” she rushed, remembering what I said
earlier in the car and knowing what I was trying to say.
“You’re not making me dirty. There is no you. There’s no me.
This is us. Just us.”
And that was all I needed to hear to carry her over to the
marble bench and lay her down. Coming down on top her, I
kissed her hard, and she parted her legs, bending her knees up
and out, letting me settle in.
I groaned, the warmth of her seeping into my groin as I
pulsed and ached with need to be inside of her tight body.
I hovered over her, staring down at her face and running
my hand over her body. Her slender neck and smooth chest.
Her round, pointed breasts and taut stomach. Her thighs and
around to her ass.
I positioned myself, seeing her body pump with heavy
breaths, and I pushed inside her, every muscle in her body
going still as she cried out.
I came down, putting my hand over her mouth as I sank
the rest of the way inside her, burying myself deep.
Her whimpers vibrated against my hand as she panted, and
I didn’t move, waiting for the pain to subside.