(Marcus’s POV)
Beverley was becoming addicted.
And I was loving every f*****g second of it.
The way she had flipped the script on me, those short dresses that barely covered anything, the deliberate bends and wiggles, the risky photos she started sending me during the day, and especially that torturous lap dance the other night, had me completely hooked. She was getting bolder, riskier, and it was making me harder than I had been in weeks. My c**k throbbed at the mere thought of her now, even when I was trying to focus on anything else.
Yesterday, I woke up with Bianca curled against my side, her arm draped possessively over my chest. She stirred, pressing soft kisses along my neck and sliding her hand down my stomach, clearly wanting more. Normally I would have pulled her on top of me
