“Alana…” his voice is hoarse as if he is in pain especially when I squeezed his hardness lightly.

“Can I? Please?” I asked again, with each second I spent my hand on top of it, the harder it became, mesmerizing me more.

“Oh, Alana…” he gave in and guided me back into the bed.

“Fuck!” he muttered when I stood up and knelt between his legs.

I looked up at him from the floor and asked innocently, “Why are you cursing me, William?”

“I’m sorry. It’s just ...