Chapter 22: Susanna's pov

There is no pause for adjustments. None for gentle teasing. The position makes me bare, open, his penetration wickeder, deeper as he seats himself in so deep, my pussy burns, my abdomen cramps, my eyes water and my nails dig into his skin.

I'm seated now, my head dropped back against his shoulder, his nose in my hair, inhaling deeply. "Are you hurt?" he asks me, his accent thicker, almost inaudible as his hands remain, bracing my waist. I hate that he doesn't sound as undone as I am. I hate that he has me gripped around him like a vise and he still sounds like an asshole. I hate him so much, I feel the fierce burn of it in my chest, right beside the awakening hunger as my muscles struggle relax. I must be broken somehow, damaged, to be attracted to this.

When I don't respond, pain erupts inside me as he pushed yet another inch in. He isn't completely seated yet. I whimper, a tear rolling down my cheek and I nod, unable to think past the pain burrowing inside me.

He raises