“Why should I go?” “Baby, I'm going to lose my fucking mind. I'll be insatiable—already, literally the only thing I can think about is claiming and fucking the living hell out of you. Gods, I just want to covet and mark and fill you until you can't fucking move,” he grits out, palming his erection roughly with a wince. It’s difficult to breathe, but I shrug. “I fail to see a downside to any of that. If you’re trying to convince me to leave, you're doing a terrible job of it.”
