He leans forward, his massive shadow looming over her again. "Tell me, Marielle... do you really think a piece of latex is going to hold a man like me?!"
"Do you really think there's a 'perfect size' out there that can actually contain this?" He gestures down at his pulsing, unyielding shaft with a grin of pure arrogance. "Go on then!"
"Try to find one, and challenge me!" Mike raised both his arms. "Let's see if you can find something that won't snap the second I start hammering you!"
Stung by his mockery but driven by a desperate need for a sense of control, Marielle wipes her eyes and stands up, her legs still feeling like jelly. She moves toward the mahogany desk next to the bed, her movements stiff and dignified despite her disheveled state.
She reaches into a small, velvet-lined drawer, her fingers trembling as she pulls out a sleek, premium box. She walks back to the bed, holding the box as if it were a shield.
