“Yesterday you wanted me here,” I taunt. “That was a mistake.” “Which part? The part where you lay on your bed and rode your vibrator wishing it was my dick, or the part where we fucked?” “All of it,” she cries, her cheeks pink, her chest heaving up and down. “Liar,” I whisper. Closing the distance between us, I palm the back of her neck again, squeezing until she melts beneath my touch. “I think you want me just as much as I want you.” “I don’t,” she says so quietly I can barely hear her. “I think your pussy is soaking wet right now. I think you’re aching for the feel of my cock inside your
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