'till death do us part

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Warnings: Hardcore smut, cheating & vulgar language.
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Clove's tightly balled fists shook by the sides of her head, as Cato vigorously pushed himself back into her. It wasn't often he took her from behind, but when he did, he found it nearly impossible to hold himself back. Clove knew this from the painstakingly slow pace he fucked her in, his stifled moans and grunts and the way he tightly gripped onto her flesh and hair. Cato's right hand and nails tightly gripped the skin on her back, while the left tightly held clumps of Clove's auburn hair. His movements were rough and harsh and caused her to cry out each time, due to the amount of pressure she felt from him.

Never in his existence, had Cato Hadley struggled to get women to sleep with him. So when he first laid eyes on Clove, he knew he'd have her one day, come hell or high water. It most definitely proved more of a challenge, but alas he got there in the end. The problem then came that Clove was completely different compared to the other girls he'd had sex with, not necessarily in a bad way, but to Cato it was. Sleeping with Clove required more concentration than usual, because if he didn't put all his concentration into it, he'd finish quicker than he ever had in his entire life. To Cato it was a pride thing, Clove had expressed multiple times it didn't matter who finished first as long as they both did, but Cato's ego and pride would he damned if he finished first. "Fuck." He groaned, as he slowly pushed himself into her again. A harsh suck escaped from in between his teeth, as he watched her swallow him up.

That was another thing Cato found different about her, to him, Clove was genuinely beautiful.

Most of the girls Cato slept with had some sort of attractive feature to them, but he was never fully attracted to them. Clove on the other hand, was easily a sight for sore eyes. For him, it was physically and mentally pleasing, to watch her take him. Sometimes she struggled, sometimes she took it with ease, sometimes times she'd be so loud he reckoned she could be heard from down the road, and other times she'd try her best to stay quiet and that presented him with the challenge to make her scream as loud as possible. Sex with her was different every time, and kept things fresh and interesting.

Cato knew staring at her for too long would spur him to cum quicker but he couldn't help himself, to him, she was perfect and needed to be worshiped. His room was dimly lit with nothing but a few candles providing them with light, but even with the lack there of, she looked unreal.

Since their first time together, Clove had perfected her stance, she knew exactly how Cato liked her and held it for the duration of their sex. A sheer line of sweat covered her body which made it glisten slightly, another thing that made Cato feral.
Cato preferred to fuck her slowly, she clearly enjoyed it more and so did he. He liked to really take his time and show her a good time, he fucked her slow but hard, which often made her hair bounce around on its own accord. When they first started roughly fifteen minutes prior, her thick brown hair had covered her face, much to Cato's displeasure. He very quickly gathered her hair in the palm of his hand, and locked it tightly in between his fingers. He smiled to himself
knowing he'd solved the pressing issue of not being able to see her face, which was arguably the best part of sleeping with her. There was nothing he loved more than watching her face scrunch up, and flush bright red the harder he fucked her.

Clove harshly bit down on her tongue in an attempt to keep herself quiet, it was just them in Cato's house, but Clove didn't always like letting Cato know how much she was enjoying it. "You don't need to be so quiet Clo- Oh, fuck." He grunted, as he slowly pulled himself out of her. Cato flipped Clove onto her back in one swift motion, barely giving her a chance to process the position change, before he harshly forced himself into her again. Clove's mouth parted slightly as a sharp groan escaped from the back of her throat, Cato let his head fall in the crook between Clove's shoulder and neck.

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