“You don’t fake with me. You not ready to come? Then that’s fucking heaven for me because it means I get to keep touching you.” His mouth comes down, beard scraping against my neck. “Get to keep tasting you.” Those lips press against mine, making me taste my own arousal with decadent wickedness. “Get to keep fucking you…” Pulling back, he looks into my eyes. “Now take your pleasure, Rissa.”
