Watching his c**k inside me, I lift myself up on my elbows. I gasp, “You feel great!”
He pulls halfway out and thrusts shallowly, making me shut my eyes. “Grace, you enjoy my c**k in your p***y? You're greedy.”
“Yes.” I groan and pluck my n*****s and breasts. He promised to f**k me, but he's teasing and driving me insane. “Hurry. He may awaken.”
“Nope, not hurrying.” He sags into me, then retreats. “Grace! Orgasming doesn't moisten your husband's c**k. You're not feeling well because of Darren's c**k. You're not clamoring for his cock.”
I love his nasty, cruel phrases. I slump back onto the sofa and rub his arms and chest. “Yes. It's not his c**k spreading me out.” I touch his stomach. “Yours” I stare into his eyes. He's gazing at me like he never wants this to stop, like he's as inve
