Senna's POV
She was nervous. I could see it in her eyes. I could read it in her expression. From the way her cheeks were lightly dusted pink to the form, her aquamarine eyes avoided my gaze. She had beautiful eyes. She had a beautiful face, and I wanted to f**k her face.
"Look at me, Balia," I commanded. She did. I smiled.
My hands were still buried between her thighs, and though I had stopped my movements, I could still feel her wetness on my fingers.
I wanted to touch her in ways she'd never experienced. She looked naïve. She looked like she had never been f****d to satisfaction, and here she was, seated on my thigh, her body begging to be f****d. She was a stubborn one, but her body was relatively easy to be manipulated.
She was wearing a pale orange dress, one that made her ski
