Fifty Shades Of Lovia
But not with a woman.
A man—tall, muscled, shirtless with ink swirling across his back—stood behind him, hands gripping Victor’s hips. The stranger’s cock thrust steadily, slick with oil that gleamed under the low lights.
Victor’s face was twisted in ecstasy, moans escaping through gritted teeth.
So he’s gay? The mayor, the family man with the perfect wife and kids on campaign posters? I smiled, slow and wicked.
Perfect. Blackmail gold if he tried to double-cross me. My thumb hit record on the phone, angling it through the crack hidden, steadly.