She didn’t speak.
She just climbed into my lap like she had every right to, her thighs locking around my hips and her p***y already hot and soaked against my c**k. And that look in her eyes, it wasn’t lust. It was challenge. Like she came here to break me.
She rolled her hips once, slow and steady, dragging the head of my c**k against her slick folds like she wasn’t in a rush and knew I’d beg before she was done.
“You going to sit there like a good boy?” she questioned, her voice all smoke and spite and s*x.
My hands slid up her thighs, thumbs brushing dangerously close to where she dripped, but I didn’t touch her properly. Not yet. Not until she let me.
“Thought you hated me,” I said, my voice low.
She leaned in, lips close enough to taste. “I do.”
Then she kissed me like she wante
