“Ninety-nine percent of the time, I’m fucking the hell out of you in my head.” “And the other one-percent?” “I’m blowing my load in my hand.” “Cole,” I moan, wriggling beneath his sweeping caresses. “I love when you get all poetic. You and your dirty mouth.” “My dirty mouth is a sucker for the romantic stuff.” He grazes his teeth across my breast. “Like eating your pussy and lapping up your come.”
