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It’s not love, but it’s definitely lust, and when it comes to wanting Vivienne Brentwood, I’m a fucking goner. I never stood a damn chance.
“Are you going to waste more time pretending you don’t want this, or are you going to let me fuck the shit out of you?”
Goddamnit, this is the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced. I want her to ride my fucking face so I can drown in her. RIP me, death by pussy. What a fucking way to go.
“Grab the headboard and ride my face.” Her eyebrows shoot up as if she didn’t expect me to want it, but I do, and right the fuck now, or I’ll, I dunno… die.
“It wasn’t a mistake, Viv.” He snorts. “It was the best sex of my life, and it wasn’t a fucking mistake. Don’t say that shit.”
“Do you fucking see why I’m not going to let you run, Viv? Because if it was a mistake, or if it was wrong, then it wouldn’t fucking feel like this. It wouldn’t feel so goddamn good.”
“You’re sincerely underestimating how much I want to live between your thighs.”
