3 ~ Claimed on the Couch HAWTHORNE’s POV He yanked my head back with my hair, his thick shaft popping free with a slick sound. I gasped for air, my lips swollen and numb, staring up at him with watery eyes."Not yet," Jamie said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through me. His dark eyes burned with control, that quiet student gone, replaced by this dominant force towering over me. He hauled me up by the arm, his strong fingers digging into my skin, and shoved me toward the leather couch in the corner. It creaked under my weight as I stumbled back onto it, my shirt half-open, my pants tented obscenely. Jamie kicked off his jeans and boxers fully, his massive nine-inch cock bobbing free, slick with my saliva, veins pulsing along its length. He was a sight—muscles rippling under that smooth brown skin, chest heaving, sweat beading on his abs."Strip," he ordered, stepping closer, his hand stroking his dick lazily, smearing the wetness from my mouth over the head. I scramble
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