<strong>Slade Wilson, in Emma Frost</strong><br/><br/>Emma was responding beautifully, her legs spread for him and Deathstroke could feel her wetness soaking him. With a hurried motion he pushed off his trunks and kicked them away, they were a nuisance now. Slade focused on 'putting it' to Emma, he drove himself into her with a passionate fervor. He knew very well that in this place and at this time he owned her body, every perfect inch of skin, every strand of blonde hair and every drop that was wetting his prick. He took her harder, ravishing her body with a selfish desire to lay claim to the bounty of flesh before him and an egotistical desire to hear her scream his name. To<em>ruin</em>her for all other men.<br/><br/>His lips sought hers out again, his tongue moving like it had not long before to find hers. A hand snaked under to the small of her back, puller her into him as he drove himself into her.