“We are going to talk every single fucking day.” He pulled out. “You are going to tell me about your dreams in the morning when I call you. You are going to tell me about your day when I call you in the evening.” Thrust. “Every night, you are going to Facetime me so I can see you—every fucking inch of you,” he growled, dipping his mouth to my ear. Thrust. “You’re going to touch my little pussy for me every single night like the good little whore you are. You’re going to come for me every single fucking night. Don’t give a fuck how tired you are—I’m gonna see my girl scream for me,” he purred.
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