There is no reason she should think I am angry at her. I will find out who put that thought in her head later.
I walk us away from the doorway, stepping deeper into the dim room, and lay her down on the three-seater sofa. The sofa is big and wide enough—I specifically dictated the dimensions for moments exactly like this. I kneel in between her spread legs, the leather cool beneath my knees, and lower my body over hers, kissing her again.
She fists my shirt, her knuckles straining as she pulls me down, and I respond hungrily. I adjust myself lower until my c**k is pressing firmly against her center, right through the fabric. One hand fondles her heavy breast, tracing the tight peak, while the other strokes her c******s.
The damn panties.
I pull them to the side, stroking my thumb over
