Tag

Emma’s hand upon my cock, her delicate fingers gently grasping my shaft, fuel my need to bury myself balls deep inside her wet heat. Slow. How do we go slow? How do I go slow when she pours jet fuel upon my flames of desire? She is young, she is inexperienced, and she was hurt; I remind myself.

“Tag, I need you inside,” she whispers breathily at the same time she tugs.

“Angel,” I growl.

“I’m ready,” she pleads, breaking through the last of my ...