But Ross… he was different.
He didn't beg. He didn't plead.
He took.
And in that moment, as their lips clashed and her body melted against his, Joan knew—this was what she had been waiting for.
Not a boyfriend. Not a partner. A master.
Her master.
She moaned softly into the kiss, the sound muffled by his mouth, her fingers tangling in his shirt.
Her knees felt weak, her breath quickened, and she could already feel the warmth pooling between her thighs.
Her desire was rising fast, unrelenting, and completely out of her control.
She didn't care.
For once in her life… she didn't want to be in control.
"Hmmmm…" Joan moaned sweetly as Ross kissed her hard, her lips parting instinctively to welcome him in.
The moment his tongue met hers, exploring, teasing, and finally sucking it gently into his mouth, another sweeter moan escaped her lips.
It was shameless, breathy, and full of yearning.
