Tamed By The Devil Stepbrother
And now, watching her shift uncomfortably, knowing my cum was probably still leaking out of her, soaking those innocent bikini bottoms, it took everything not to drag her away right then and remind her who owned her.
Rebecca clung to my arm like a trophy, her red bikini cover-up riding up her thighs, nails digging in possessively. She was hot—blonde, leggy, vineyard heiress money—but she wasn't Clara. Never would be. "Happy birthday, baby," she purred, leaning in to nip my earlobe, her breath hot and tequila-scented. "You ready to get wild? I planned this game just for you."
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