Satisfying My Hungry Succubus
He tilted his head into the movement, showing the curve of his neck, the warmth of his skin so close to mine it was almost too much to bear.
A part of me yelled to stop, to keep the distance I had promised myself, but another part—bigger, louder—was captivated. I could feel my own heart beat faster, my body responding to the quiet signals, the silent plea coming from him. This was no longer casual. It wasn't something I could choose. Feeding him had become a constant thing, a living rhythm between us, and I was already hooked.
Bab Populer