Maybe that’s why I love it so much when Jared spanks me. Maybe the aggression he warned me about won’t be an issue.
Somehow I extricate myself from his grip, slither down into the driver’s seat of my car. He leans against the vehicle, peering in the window like he’s not sure he’s going to let me drive away. And considering the way he picked up his huge motorcycle like it weighed nothing after the car accident—he probably could stop it with one hand. Instead he thumps the ceiling, still peering in at me as I slowly pull away.
I wriggle in my seat, my p***y hot and damp, already more than desperate for him.
The little voice of reason in my head screams, what are you doing? Every time I have s*x with Jared, it makes our impending separation worse.
But I can’t make myself care. I went thre
