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Don’t imagine them wrapped around your dick, don’t imagine them wrapped around your dick—I’m one hundred percent imagining them wrapped around my dick.
She’ll be so proud when I tell her I skipped my father’s wedding reception to fuck a stranger in my hotel room.
“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.”
“You know, the usual, vanilla stuff. Harder, make me come, let me swallow, that’s the biggest dick I’ve ever seen, I’m coming. That kind of thing.”
His voice is low and dangerous. “Who did this to you?” My heart stops. He’s just met me, and he already looks like he would burn the world down for me.
My praise kink and my mask kink are forever at war over the horny part of my brain.
“Such a good fucking girl,” he groans. “You’re going to come for me, sweetheart.”
“When will you learn that everything I do is for you? I chase you, I pleasure you, I protect you. Be mine, Sienna. Be mine and I can give you everything you want. Make your every fantasy a reality.”
“You will be.” He cradles my face, and I long to lean in to his touch. To give in and take what I want. “Then you’ll be my wife.”
