Sixty Shades Of Ice
He shook his head, chuckling.
Exactly what Clinton said.
It should be blasphemous that a sex god like me can’t even get hard. An abomination to society!
“Seems like someone has you wrapped around their fingers,” he commented, seemingly amused.
“I, Nikolai Carrington, won’t allow myself to get wrapped in anyone’s fingers.”
“Hmmm… whatever helps you sleep at night, Niko. Whatever helps you sleep,” he chanted, full of sarcasm.
Even my own dick had betrayed me.
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