My head slowly cranes back to find the box full of my erotica ripped open. Oh, fuck. “Did a little textbook research on it,” he confesses, stroking my thighs. My eyes widen with surprise. “You read my books?” Azeer chuckles low in his throat. “I wouldn’t call those books, Alina jaan. It’s pure debauchery written in size-eleven Times New Roman.” He places his hand on my stomach and guides me back onto the cold countertop, his gaze burning with desire. “Now, Alina jaan, may I have your permission to experiment with what I’ve gathered from your interesting books?” “Yes. A hundred times yes.”
