Leandra Parsons

55%
Flag icon
feels like a punishment, one that I don’t want to stop. I’m gasping for breath, back arched, mouth wide as he makes his way down my stomach and presses his mouth to my core, blowing hot air. I’m shaking by the time he pulls my shorts off, discarding my underwear with them.  “Beg for it,” he says, mouth grazing my clit. 
A Twisted Arrangement (Twisted Vows, #2)
Rate this book
Clear rating
Open Preview