RYKER
She tasted addictive and I already knew that was going to be a problem.
I worked my mouth against her core, learning her body the way a man learns a weapon, what made her breath stutter, what made her thighs lock around my head like she wanted to crush me and pull me closer at the same time.
My hands flat against her hips pinning her down because she kept bucking and I was not done with her yet, and I could feel her fighting to stay quiet, the sounds tearing out of her in short broken bursts, her fingers white-knuckled in the sheets because she wanted to grab my hair and was holding herself back, and that restraint was the most interesting thing about her and I was going to dismantle it completely.
