Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost liked how small you were — well, at least compared to him. With 6'4 of muscle and scars, he practically formed a shadow beneath you. And he liked that, in as many ways as possible.

From the way you asked him to get things from higher shelves — which he did effortlessly — to the way you struggled to take all of his cock inside you. It was cute, watching you try, your eyes that often filled with water, your speech that was once rebellious, asserting that you could take it, melting into desperate, needy moans as you became nothing more than a little slut in Ghost's hands. And how with each thrust his dick appeared in your belly. He loved breaking you.

The sound of the slap Simon left against your thigh reverberated through the room. He stroked the skin afterwards, as if to ease the pain. His other hand, wrapped around his own cock, brushed the tip against your entrance, teasing you with the anticipation of the lurking penetration. "Open." he whispered, his mask raised to his nose. Leaning down, Ghost spat on your tongue and, removing his hand from your thigh, he squeezed your chin, making you look into his eyes.

As if using this as a distraction, he moved his hips forward, replacing his palm on your hip, his firm grip preventing your legs from closing, since they always needed to be wide open to receive him. "You can take it. You will take it." he said through gritted teeth, and little by little, inch by inch, he was completely inside you. Ghost placed his hand on your belly, the shape of his cock causing a visible bulge there.