“Jesus, Tink.” His hand wedges beneath me and grips my throat. He squeezes, just enough to add some panic to the mix, and grinds his dick inside of me. I moan, giving him the go ahead to fuck me as he pleases. And he does. Several times. Afterwards, Krew stumbles to the bathroom, his balance so off-center he smacks the doorframe with his shoulder. I smile at his muffled curse, halfway to sleep when he finally comes back with a warm washcloth. His brow pinches with annoyance as he wipes his cum away. I sigh when he tosses the soiled rag aside and curls around me. Krew kisses my neck, his arm
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