“I’m sorry, I have to move. I have to. You’re so bloody tight. So good,” he groaned, his face distorted with need. He started to pump into her, long, powerful thrusts, the slap of flesh on flesh and the wet… — Sarah Mayberry Copy Share Image
“Holl?” Seth turned over. “Where you going?” “Home. Sorry. Go back to sleep.” I pulled on my sweatpants. “But we have all night.” He pushed to his elbows. “I know. I can’t.” My voice sounded hoarse, hollow. “I don’t feel… — Julie Anne Peters Copy Share Image
