“Is there anything you want me to save just for you?” “You already do,” he says, tracing the corner of my eyelid with his finger. “That look in your eye. That’s just for me.” My breath hitches. This man. Shaking my head, I push Dixon onto his back. “You sweet talker, you. New plan.” I inch lower. “I’m going to take you apart with my mouth and my fingers because I am dying to become acquainted with your prostate and hear you scream my name.”
