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If he was wearing a mask, I’d come in about ten seconds.
“You know, the usual, vanilla stuff. Good girl, eyes on me, beg me, crawl to me, you can take it, I decide when you breathe.”
“In that case,” he murmurs, “be a good girl and take off my belt.” My thighs clench. Oh shit. What have I unleashed?
“Are you going to try to stop me again? Or are you going to be a good girl and take it?”
His hand brushes behind my ear, tender . . . until he slides it around my neck and tugs me closer.
“Fucking beg. Or I’ll let everyone on this bus hear you come.”
