DADDIES AND THEIR GOOD GIRLS
His supposedly vanilla, quiet wife was leaning back in her painting chair, her legs still spread wide open, her fingers glistening with her own wetness.
The sight of her looking so utterly depraved and dominant sent a violent, agonizing jolt of heat straight to his cock.
Without a single word, Reid dropped to his knees right in front of her chair.
"You like what you see, Reid?" Inker whispered, her voice husky and entirely devoid of the polite tone she used in public.
Reid didn't answer. He reached up, his large hands grabbing the straps of her wine satin dress and tearing them down, pushing the fabric completely off her shoulders to expose her bare, heavy breasts.