As her orgasm finally began to dwindle, she moved the toy away from her drenched, aching core. “Did I give you permission to do that?” He asked. Freezing, Ivy gaped. “I…” “Next time, you ask.” Nodding, she said, “Sorry.” “You can apologize by stripping those off,” he said, gesturing to her underwear and bra. “And getting on the table for me.”
