Thirty

Demetri's words could have set fire to my body if he wanted. If he wanted to fuck me, I would not be the one to stop him. He was right.

When he was fucking me, he owned me. I would bend over backward to please him. If he asked me to drop to my knees in the middle of a large crowd, I would. It was a terrifying realization that I was no longer the driving force behind my desires. Instead, every craving was fueled by him.

I wanted to record the way he moaned and grunted as he fucked me so I could play it on repeat. That sound alone was enough to make me come undone, but knowing that it was because of me that he was feeling that way, brought me to another level.

His hands squeezed my breasts one more time as he continued to roll and pinch my nipples before he pulled away, leaving his magic to resume the delicious torture. The calloused skin of his large palms slid down my sides, before making their way beneath my waistband and down to the wet center that was waiting for him.

As his fin