It’s the way he touches me. His strong hands, his long fingers, his strong grip on my wrists, and that feeling of being utterly his. His woman, his muse, his whore. I don’t want to be anything else than his possession; I don’t want to be anywhere else than here, now. 0
“Ooooh, come on! Fuck me already!” That man was a master in teasing. To think that she had met him only that morning – both lone wolves at the beach – and that question by question, smalltalk by smalltalk, he had managed to gain her trust in such a short time, it had to be […]