“I don’t want them to see me, Masque, I don’t care if they’re hard for me.” I pulled his hand around to my breast, moaning as he twisted my nipple. “Tell me,” he hissed. “What do you want them to see?” His hips slammed into my bruises and it felt so fucking good. “Tell me, Lydia. Look at them and tell me what makes you wet.” He changed his angle, and his cock strained inside me, pressing on all the right places. “I want them to see this,” I moaned. “I want them to see you inside me. Show them how I belong to you...”
