"No… kissing's too much… it's for husband," she whispered, her voice quaking with guilt, her eyes darting to the crucifix on the wall as if begging for strength, for forgiveness from the figure hanging there in eternal suffering.
But her body betrayed her completely, arching up involuntarily as Devon's hands roamed her breasts, kneading the soft, heavy flesh with firm, possessive squeezes, his thumbs circling her nipples until they puckered even tighter, drawing a sharp, involuntary gasp from her lips, her back lifting off the bed as electricity shot through her.
"God help me… please," she whimpered, her voice a plea to both heaven and the man above her, her thighs rubbing together desperately as wetness pooled between them, her pussy aching with a need she couldn't deny.
