“The only one filling you up is me.” He presses the head of his length along my wet core, and I shudder, every muscle in my body contracting. “The only name you’re screaming is mine—” “Screaming is a bit of a hyperbole,” I interrupt. “—and the only lap you’ll be sitting on is this one.” He looks down to where our hips meet and thrusts so deeply inside me, a scream rips from my throat. “Hyperbole, my ass.”
