“How many times have you gotten off to the thought of me?” I asked. “More than you could count,” he said, teasing my opening with the tip of his dick. I let my head fall back as I closed my eyes. “Zahariev,” I whined. I just wanted him inside me again. “I love the way you say my name,” he said. “Only when I’m begging though, right?” “No,” he said, staring down at me. “I love it all the time, even when you’re pissed. Especially when you’re pissed. It makes me hard. It makes me want to fuck you.”
