Jule rolled back onto the couch when it was obvious that he had Sydney handled now and started to touch herself eagerly while watching. It wasn't long before her hand was delved into her own pants, flicking away as she moaned and ground her own hips into her hand eagerly.<br/><br/>Syd bit her lip so hard she managed to draw blood in an attempt to not scream from the pain of his entrance and rough fucking, to moaning as the pain fuel an unwanted pleasure that gradually built from her cunt up her hips and into her thighs. She didn't want to feel this. Any of this. Why did Jule have to be weak and trade her for a trip? It hurt. And it didn't help that the man on top of her was trying to edge her out of her own denial.<br/><br/>Her body had severed pain in to pleasure in a horrible way that made it impossible to ignore her own building orgasm. But she wasn't going to admit it. Not this time. She wasn't that easy to break. She felt tears burn at her eyes but even refused to let them fall from being overwhelmed. "Burn in hell." She grunted at him through heavy pants.<br/><br/>Though the hand consistently holding her throat made her brows twitch in a response to pleasure. She liked the strangling,<i>a lot</i>, but even fought off that reaction as soon as she felt herself getting into it. The hand added some sick control over her that she loved. She couldn't explain it, but the more weight he put into it, the more her face started to break from her anger and fear into mild amounts of pleasure and obvious fights against said pleasure. She was getting close, but was trying to prevent it, her pussy starting to spasm in conflicted interest. She closed her eyes and felt the hot blood drip off her stinging lip, eyes closing in concentration and the chaos in her clenching and unclenching cunt contorted her face into a beautiful mixture of pain and pleasure.