My fingers clutched at his dark, curly wisps of hair, my eyes closed in a hypnotic trance, my lips pursed together. I lay there, silently, with him mounted on top of me. Occasionally, I will myself to let out a seductive moan of encouragement.
Not that he needed any. He was in the throes of pleasure – riding me, grabbing me, pounding into me. His weight crushing my ribs, his mouth ravaging mine like a savage animal tearing through its prey. His smoky breath assaulted my nostrils, making it difficult to breathe. He bit into my right nipple as he pinched the other one making me writhe in pain. A single tear made its way out of one eye and rolled off my cheek. I led him into believing I was enjoying it. The sooner he climaxes the sooner this finishes, I thought!
He thrust back and forth, and continued to lunge, grunting and moaning as pleasure racked his body. Shortly after, I felt him go limp and then roll off of me. Gasping with pain and relief, I propped myself up searching for the clothes he had earlier ripped off of me and tossed aside. I lifted myself up and walked over to pick up my half-torn shirt.
Wiping my tears, I gathered my clothes and did my hair, pretending nothing had happened.
Casually, I picked up the money he had left for me on the bedside table and made a call to my agent.