And the worst part is, I have a sneaking suspicion I know what might be stressing him out. To the point of having a migraine today. What we did last night was wrong. So freaking wrong. Yet it felt damn fantastic. Was I mad at him for bursting into the bathroom on me while I was pleasuring myself? For about five seconds, maybe. But when I saw all that building lust in his sizzling brown eyes, I knew I wanted to be the blissful recipient of all that bottled-up male aggression. And geez, was it worth it!
