“What do you want, my sweet girl?” I wanted him. For all things holy and mighty, I wanted him inside of me and wanted him to make me come, and I didn’t care if it was right here in his kitchen for goodness’ sake as long as he put his mouth back on me, his fingers on my clit—something, anything. “I want you,” I heaved, “to fuck me. Hard. Right here, on the counter.”
