Get rougher with Melisandre

You’ve had enough of her control.

The way she’s swaying those hips, milking you with that sorceress cunt like she owns your seed, ignites something feral in your blood. You growl low in your throat, the sound more wolf than man, and your hands clamp down hard on her waist.

“Enough games, witch.”

In one powerful motion you sit up, wrap an arm around her and flip her off you. Melisandre gasps as her back hits the furs, but the sound quickly turns into a throaty moan when you shove her legs apart and mount her roughly. Your cock, still glistening with her juices, slams back inside her soaked, cum-filled pussy in a single brutal thrust.

She arches hard, breasts bouncing. “Yes - my Lord!”

You don’t give her time to adjust. You fuck her with deep, punishing strokes, hips snapping forward so hard the heavy wooden bed creaks and thuds against the stone wall. Each thrust bottoms out, your cock kissing her cervix and forcing little bursts of your earlier spend to squelch out around your shaft.

Grabbing a fistful of her long auburn hair, you yank her head back, exposing the elegant line of her throat. Your teeth find the pulse there and bite down, marking her pale skin with dark bruises.

“You like pretending you’re in control?” you snarl against her neck. “Not anymore.”

You pull out suddenly, flip her onto her stomach, and drag her hips up so she’s on her knees with her face pressed into the furs. The new angle lets you drive even deeper. You smack her ass hard - once, twice - the sharp crack echoing through the chamber as her flesh jiggles and blooms red under your palm.

Melisandre cries out in pleasure, pushing back to meet every savage thrust. “Harder, Jon Snow! Take what you want from your red whore!”

The title makes your blood boil hotter. You grip her hips with bruising **** and rail her mercilessly, the wet slap of your pelvis against her ass filling the room. One hand snakes underneath to pinch and tug at her swollen clit while the other keeps her hair wrapped around your fist like reins.

Her cunt flutters and clenches wildly around you, hotter and wetter than before. The candles flare violently, flames leaping toward the ceiling as her magic reacts to the rough treatment. Shadows twist across the walls like dancing demons.

You spank her again, harder this time, then lean over her back, your chest pressed to her sweat-slick skin. Your voice is a dark growl right beside her ear.

“I’m going to fuck you until you can’t walk, witch. Until this greedy little cunt is overflowing with my seed and you remember who you belong to tonight.”

Melisandre’s only answer is a broken, ecstatic sob as another orgasm rips through her. Her walls clamp down like a vice, rippling and milking your cock with ****, rhythmic pulses. You keep pounding through it, chasing your own release with raw, animalistic need.

When it hits you, it’s violent. You bury yourself to the hilt, roar against her shoulder, and flood her womb with thick, powerful jets of cum. You don’t stop moving - short, grinding thrusts that push every drop as deep as it will go while she trembles and whimpers beneath you.

Even after you finish, you stay buried inside her, cock twitching with aftershocks. You tug her hair again, forcing her head to the side so you can see her flushed, pleasure-drunk face.

“We’re not done,” you promise, voice rough with lingering lust. “Turn over. I want to see your face while I use you again.”

Her crimson eyes gleam with dark delight as she obeys, already spreading her legs for whatever rougher treatment you intend to give her next.