“Kiss me,” I whisper into his ear. “I want you to kiss me when you come.”
He lifts his head and gazes at me, his eyes hazy and halflidded. In a throaty voice, he says, “You’re not in charge here, lass.”
I flex my hips, pulling another moan from him. Braced on either side of my head, his arms have started to shake.
Smiling up into his face, I say, “Sorry, gangster, but I am.”
I pull his head down and kiss him, rocking my hips, urging him on with my body. He allows it for a few moments, then pulls out of me abruptly and flips me onto my stomach. He hikes my ass in the air, spreads my legs apart, grips my hips in his big hands, and drives inside me from behind.
When I groan in mindless pleasure, he chuckles. He leans over me, planting a hand on the mattress next to my face, and reaches a
