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Her broken breaths echo in the air as I pump my hand in, enjoying the view of my handprints on her ass and the way she writhes, trying to take me in as much as possible. Her pelvis slams against the edge of the island with each back-and-forth. She’s trying to get off. Not so soon. I release her hair and pull my fingers from inside her. Dahlia faces me, her cheeks crimson red and her lips trembling. Then this beautiful fucked-up hellion glares at me and slaps me across the face. “Don’t touch me, you disgusting prick.” I laugh, the sound echoing around us like a dark tune. She knows I’ll slap her back. She does, and she still did it anyway. I lift a hand and she tightens her body, ready for the hit, but I imprison her jaw, studying her expression under the fridge’s soft light. She tries to shove me away, and I rub my clothed cock against her thighs, making sure not to offer her any form of friction. “Fight me, wildflower. You know it makes me fucking hard.” Guttural sounds leave her lung