“You’re so good at this, baby boy,” he groans, running his hands over my sides and down to my lower back. “You’re perfect.” His praise lights me the fuck up, his teeth nipping my lip while I ride him harder. “Carter calls me that.” “I don’t give a shit what he calls you.” He grabs my ass, holding me down on him possessively. “You’re not his. You’re mine. My baby boy…”
