Chapter 37
I can still taste them on my tongue—salt, musk, the faint bitterness of their c*m mixed together like some filthy cocktail I can’t get enough of. The kitchen floor is cold against my palms and knees, but I don’t care.
My body’s on fire from the inside out, every nerve ending screaming for more even though I’m already so full I can feel the plug shifting with every tiny clench of my ass.
Cum drips slow and steady from my cunt, pooling under me in little sticky puddles. I should be ashamed. I’m not.
Matteo’s still behind me, one big hand splayed across the small of my back, keeping me arched just the way he likes.
His c**k is softening but he hasn’t pulled out yet—he’s letting it sit there, plugging me like he’s afraid even a drop will escape before he’s ready for it to. L
