Water sloshed hard against the walls of the tub, splashing over the sides, running in thin rivulets down to the floor. His hands gripped her hips—fingers leaving bruises she'd count tomorrow—and he fucked her with long, hammering strokes that pushed her forward and dragged her back, each impact a wet smack of skin that echoed off the tiles.
Pah. Pah. PAH. PAH.
"Ahn~!! MNGH~!! AHH~!! HEKK~!!"
"You said you'd kill me," he said, barely winded, low and almost amused even while he was splitting her open from behind.
"I—WILL—" she cried, each word broken by a thrust, tears streaming freely down her face now—not from pain alone, not from shame alone, but from the unbearable, overloading pressure of too much sensation piling on top of itself. "You—disgusting—absolute—AANGHH~!!"
PAAAH.
One deep, long thrust that bottomed out and stayed there.
