“My ruin.” His delighted hum feels almost perverse while his fingers are still deep inside of me. The tip of his nose trails up my neck. “Aren’t you glad I made you come this time?” he muses. He pitches his hips forward, reminding me how hard he still is. “Remember, Crèvecoeur?” His body tenses while his mouth remains next to my ear. “When you served your cunt up on a silver platter for me at Manor?”
