Kiss Me, Bravta King
I held on to him and fought back the urge to cry at the bliss of having his hands on me again, of having his tongue sliding with mine and his mouth stealing my breath.
He rubbed over my cut as I wrapped my leg around him, but it was with a minimal spin and distracted effort that he tried to clean me. We couldn't stop kissing, desperate to stay lip locked and together. Flush to his wet body, I held on and prayed he'd never let me go.
This was no gentle lover. He wasn't a random stranger stalking me in an alley. Anatoli was a lying, ruthless, and powerful killer. And still, I wanted him to push his hard dick into my wet pussy.
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