44
Marcus
“No, no more. I’m so sore,” Emma groans, rolling off the bed when I cup her breast, and I reluctantly let her go, though I could gladly go for round two. Or three—depending on whether coming on her ass this morning counts.
Fuck, no wonder she’s begging for mercy. I have zero control around her. And hearing about her ex-boyfriends didn’t help. I all but lost it, picturing her with those pimply-faced idiots—which is how we ended up back in bed despite my best intentions.
I was going to be a gentleman and keep my hands off her until tonight.
I really was.
She’s wisely decided to remove the temptation by disappearing into the bathroom, so I get up and get dressed, ignoring the contemptuous stares from the cats. Well, two of the cats; Cottonball seems to have warmed up to me a b
