“You’re so goddamn beautiful,” he whispered. “I wish you could see yourself.” He ran his palms up and down my thighs, testing the flesh, pinching it and stroking it, his big hands rough and warm. “This beautiful skin.” He kissed my leg. “These perfect tits.” He reached up and squeezed them, thumbing over my hard n*****s so I shivered in delight.
His voice turned spine-chillingly dark. “And this gorgeous p***y. Look at you, spread open for me, all pink and soft. Christ. I can’t decide if I want to eat you until you come and then f**k you, or if I should make you come on my hard c**k first.”
Sweet baby Jesus in the manger, Jackson Boudreaux is a dirty talker.
“Please,” I pleaded brokenly. “Jax.”
He gently pinched my c**t between two fingers and blew on it. I moaned like a porn star.
“Te
