Without any gentleness, I was pushed against the sofa as he continued assaulting my lips; with one of his hands clutching the back of my neck, the other tightly gripped my thigh as his weight leaned on me, but not completely crushing me.
The kiss was punishing. Despite that, the sense of favorable result on my part waved confidence while I enjoyed the assaulting stroke of his tongue, the nip of his lips, and the pinch of his hands on my skin where his hands touched, leaving the awakened desire unsated.
He was affected. He admitted it. The lie worked.
I could think of the consequences later.
His mouth lowered down on my chest while his hand seized my breast with urgency, making me groan in a muffled tone. I gasped sharply when his hand forcibly tore my dress, exposing my red lace cup
