Each harsh thrust had Lillian crying out softly, breathlessly against his lips. Their bodies were coming together roughly, certainly not a tender session of making love. No, this was as Blaith crudely put it - fucking.
The way her face and body flushed, the way her hips jerked and ground into the his deep, sharp thrusts, and the moans being ripped from her throat suggested that it wasn't an unwelcome assault. Lillian's hands were moving over Blaith's back, holding him, scratching lightly at him.
"Oh god, Blaith!." The words were a whimper. She was really powerless against him! If he wanted to fuck her again and again she knew that she couldn't deny him. Not because she was his prisoner - she wasn't that, not anymore. Lillian just knew she wouldn't want to deny him. Although she was going to be very sore by the time her lover was finally sated!