I feel his tough hand slide up my left thigh, passing my hip and gripping my waist tenderly as I move my right leg over his legs to sit on his laps.

My back arches, my stomach leans forward to press into his abdomen, and I don’t know when I start rocking the bulge sticking out on his crouch.

Blank worships my body with his hands, slowly sliding them from my thighs to my breasts, and then back down to my thighs occasionally.

“Stop making it harder for me to resist you, Nectar,” he moans ...