“Do you like that, whore? Like having a fat cock inside you?”
“I'm not a whore.”
“You are what I say you are,” he told her, beginning to thrust. Jocelyn twitched and writhed but couldn't break free. He didn't let go and she tried to catch him off guard, squirming. He wasn't hurting her, but she didn't like the way he restrained her. The more she moved, the harder and larger he seemed to become. That only made her struggles stronger. Feeling a series of throbs inside her, Will finally let her go.
“What? Who do you think you are, woman?” he asked, reaching for her hair.
“No, it's not that. I've never...” She couldn't finish the sentence without digging a bigger hole for herself.
Will snorted with derision, wrapping her hair in his hand until she had to crane her neck. “I thought you were a bad idea from the start.” Then he stalked away.