My Pretty Little Object
Instead of laughing, he squeezes my hand and caresses the back of it with his thumb, sending sparks of pleasure straight to my achy pussy.
“What’s your name?”
“Liv,” I say, but it comes out in a breathy rush that matches perfectly with the embarrassing moan I just gave.
“I’ll remember that. It was very nice meeting you, Liv.”
Before I can respond, he brings the back of my hand to his mouth, kisses it gently, and then turns to the door right next to mine, slips his keycard in, and disappears out of my life. It’s for the best, I tell myself. My own hands shake as I unlock my door and wheel my suitcase in. My hand tingles on the spot he just kissed, and all I can think about is having that mout
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