Asking Permission

Ashli Orion slips through the door two hours late, skirt hiked high and heels clicking like a taunt. James Deen is waiting, arms folded, eyes dark. She knows the price, and she came dressed to make him collect. He grabs a fistful of her hair, yanks her into the room, and slams her face-down over the arm of the couch. Rope bites into her wrists and ankles before the skirt is shoved up to her waist. The acrylic plug gleams, already wedged inside her. He yanks it out, spits on his cock, and drives straight into her ass. Each thrust jams her harder against the cushions. A thick ball gag muffles her yelps while he pounds deeper, stretching her open, owning every inch. She came looking for trouble. He gives it to her—hard, tight, unforgiving.