EDEN “I am your husband, squirrel," he growls. "The only one who owns this body. The only one you belong to." His palm slides between us, his fingers finding the lace of my panties. He doesn't push them aside yet. He just presses the heel of his hand against my clit through the fabric and grinds in slow circles. I suck in a sharp breath, my hips jerking before I can stop them. "Already dripping for me. You can lie with your mouth all you want, squirrel, but this pussy can’t,” he says, his voice velvety and thick. He drags two fingers along my slit, pressing the lace into my folds, letting the wet fabric cling and outline every swollen inch. I bite my lip hard enough to taste copper. The smug bastard leans in until his mouth is at my ear. "I know this body like the back of my hand," he says, while his fingers keep that maddening pressure. "Every spot that makes you tremble. Every sound you try to swallow." He hooks the edge of my panties and yanks them aside.
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