¬ Fashire
Her hands had stilled on her hair. She was staring straight ahead, but I could see the tension in her neck, the rigid set of her spine.
"I remember the sounds you made," I pressed on, watching her reflection in the mirror. "Those desperate little moans while your thighs clenched tightly around me. You grabbed me by my hair and pulled me closer. I am sure no substance controlled your limbs to do that."
My fingers twitched with an itch to wrap around the base of my cock and stroke.
Gods, I could already remember those moments visibly in my head.
"You remember, don't you?" I rasped, not caring if she could hear the arousal in my voice. "How your whole body shuddered when I licked your clit and tasted that sweet nectar—"
"Be quiet."
The command slid off me like water. I grinned, feeling the sharp sting of blood beginning to pool at the corner of my mouth as the pain of resisting intensified. "Oh, please. I am far from done. You won't silence me.
