Taylor is going to hell for this

Taylor's clit throbbed between her fingers, and her jaw felt close to breaking as she swallowed her moans. Shawn showed her no mercy. From the second they started he'd maintained a woodpecker rhythm, fast and single-minded. God, how long was it since she'd let a guy just fucking take her like this? Too long, spinster, her pussy explosively reminded her.

“Mmm! You are a yummy little slut, Taylor,” he laughed, watching her claw for purchase on the slick tiles. “I'm surprised you still want more.”

She turned just enough to smirk back through hooded eyes. “'Harder's' nnh not my safe word, Shawn. Fuck me like you uhh hate me already.” His hips went taut, and he grunted with the exertion of holding his own orgasm back. Taylor had a gift for aural pleasure and knew it.

Isn't that what guys were like, though? Their pleasure was a right. Her pleasure was an obligation. Case in point! Zachary's heart was broken, so Taylor had to mend it.

Shawn took a fistful of her brown hair and pulled, bending her backwards. Her nipples begged to be crushed and twisted as her outstretched chest bounced against the freezing wall of the shower.

Alright, so loathsome as Shawn was, it wasn't exactly sacrifice getting fucked silly on Zack's behalf. It would all be worth it for his face when she said Shawn has given in. He deserved a girl who could appreciate his sensitive spirit. Who wouldn't throw him out when trouble came knocking. Who would fuck him like a slut and hug him like a...

The hammering between her legs stopped, briefly.

His cock slammed deep. Pulsed hard. Withdrew.

Slammed. Pulsed. Again.

Oh fuck. Orgasm number two was like an out-of-body experience. Taylor could see herself on tiptoes in the shower, pulled by her hair against her partner's chest. But now the dick she was riding to completion belonged to someone she loved, not someone she hated. Oh fuck.

The sex was great. Better than great. From initial **** to trying to **** herself on him, Shawn had proved that deep down Taylor Bishop was a slut like any other. Admittedly, it was a constant cycle of shit talking and porn moaning with her. Did Hannah bring any gags in her luggage? He'd need her to demonstrate if so.

He pulled Taylor's towel off the rack and, once he was dry, did the gentlemanly thing by rubbing her down. He was sure he'd missed some between her legs, but she insisted on climbing into her shorts all the same. A shame.

“So,” he shouted. She glared, pink with embarrassment, which pleased him. She should be embarrassed. It was rude, the way she kept avoiding his eye. “Shall we go back to my room? We can make Kendra clear on the deal.”