“I’ve watched you,” he admits. “So lovely. So sensual.” Interesting. “What did I call you?” “Zaroun,” he says in a dreamy voice. “You called me Zaroun.” I did? Oh, I like that. “It means ‘dusk’ in my mother’s language,” I tell him, pleased at my own cleverness. “I know.” “Zaroun,” I purr, working his cock. “Do you want me to make you come again?”
