The command was a low growl in the dim room. "Present." No please, no asking. My pulse hammered as I obeyed, bending over the leather couch, my jeans and panties already a pool at my ankles. The cool air kissed my bare skin, but the heat between my thighs was a furnace.

I heard the rustle of his pants, the clink of his belt buckle. Then his hands were on me, rough and possessive. One large palm spread over the small of my back, pinning me. The other traced the cleft of my ass, a calloused thumb brushing against my puckered hole. "This tight little starfish is mine tonight," he murmured, his voice dripping with intent. "Gonna wreck it."

I whimpered, pushing back against his hand. The slick sound of a bottle opening cut the silence. Cold lube dripped onto my backdoor, making me jump. His finger, thick and demanding, circled the rim, not entering, just teasing the sensitive nerve endings. "You want this D, don't you?" he asked, already knowing the answer. He pressed the fat, leaking head of his cock against me. I could feel every throbbing vein, the sheer girth of him threatening to split me open.

"Please," I breathed, the word torn from me.

"Please what?"

"Please... fuck my ass with your big D, Sir."

That was all the permission he needed. With a brutal, steady pressure, he began to feed his meat into my tight channel. The burn was exquisite, a sharp, stretching fullness that stole my breath. I cried out, my nails digging into the leather. He didn't stop, burying himself to the hilt with