Addicted Angel in the Hospital Bed
He was my professor, and 20 years older than me.
"No, Mr. Buckley. We can't," I said, but deep down, I felt an unexpected twinge of disappointment.
Eric climbed onto the bed, inching his way toward me.
"I'm just helping you heal, sweetheart. Be a good girl and spread your legs—just one last step," he said as he reached for my ankles.
I scrambled backward, only to realize that the spot where I had been sitting was soaked through. The bedsheet was dark with evidence of my arousal.
Bab Populer