With that, Loren set me more fully in my seat, took my glassand handed it to me, nabbed his own, and I followed suit as we twisted in ourchairs and raised our drinks to the assemblage.
A muted, tasteful cheer broke out.
And we all drank.
Totally.
Best…
Date…
Ever.
ChapterTwenty-One
Days Were Numbered
Satrine
Oh mygods.
I needed him tofuck me.
“Baby,” I gasped.
I was so into it, I could say no more, like,Slam thatgorgeous, big cock of yours IN ME.
I was in a state.
I was also on my knees in Loren’s bed, Loren behind me onhis, that big, thick dick of his hard and pressing into my backside.He had oneof his hands at my breast, pinching and squeezing my nipple.The other wasbetween my legs, doing things to my clit that honestly were so decadent, theyshould be illegal.
But no matter how I moved my hips, how desperately I rubbedmy ass against his cock, he refused to come inside.
Even with his fingers.
“I think I need you inside,” I whimpered.
He growled into my neck.
Oh yes.
But then he said in my ear, “I’m not taking your maidenheadwith my fingers.”
I grew immobile and blinked at his cobalt damask wallpaperedwall.
“What?”
He nipped my ear.
I shivered as he said, “My love, I’ll accept your virtue,what’s left of it, when I have no more pain.I’m loath to admit I have it, butI do.And I want it all to be about you and me and our coupling when that timecomes.”
My virtue?
His fingers rolled.
My mind blanked, I moaned, and my head fell back to hisshoulder.
Totally freaking should-be-illegal.
