LAYLA
Sixty minutes later, my face is wet with tears. My whole body is shaking uncontrollably, hot and cold washing over me in big shivery waves. I’m covered in sweat; it’s building under my hair, rolling down my thighs, sticking the slippery silk sheets to my bare skin. My s*x is clenching desperately, pulsing, and weeping all over the bed. I’m so empty I ache, deep in my womb.
Between my legs, Luke gives me another leisurely lick, tracing the tip of his tongue across my entrance, dipping inside. I choke, trying to slam my thighs together, to hold his head there, but my bound ankles just rattle the bedframe uselessly. He gives me a feather-light kiss, fluttering his lips teasingly over my sensitive, sucking flesh, and I cry out, tugging at the bonds.
I’m exhausted. I’ve been balanced o
