Jayden moved slightly, backing away from me, her face flushing a deep, burning crimson that spread down her neck and chest, her golden-brown skin darkening with embarrassment.
She bit her lip, her eyes darting to the floor as if she couldn't bear to look at me, let alone meet my gaze.
"I-I haven't cleaned it properly… for a while…" she muttered, her voice trembling, her fingers twisting nervously in the fabric of the bedsheets.
The scent of her arousal—musky, sweet, with that hint of spice—was thick in the air, mixed with the tang of her shame.
I stepped closer, my body pressing against hers, my cock throbbing against her ass, poking at her soft, warm flesh. The heat of her Mexican body seeped into me, intoxicating me, maddening me.
"I've already cleaned it…" I murmured, my voice a dark purr, teasing, possessive. The sound of my voice was low, rough, filled with need.
