“More,” I groaned, begging now for something far different than his hand against my ass. I wanted friction between my legs to send the buzz coursing through my veins straight to my clit, building up to sweet relief. “You like this? You like what I’m doing to you?” His words were colored with rough desire, tight and low. “Yes. And so do you.” I rubbed against his lap, feeling him grow thicker and longer as I did. “Admit it.” “Repent,” he said, smacking my pussy again, this time on purpose, bringing me within an inch of the precipice. “Never.” Not when being bad means I get to feel you doing
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