It was probably meant to look French. Kent said it reminded him of me. I could never understand why. I bent over the table, my heart hammering against...my ribs.He was brisk, unemotional, like he always was at this point. He pulled my dress cleanly up.“Legs wider,” His strong hand closed around my ankle, forcing my feet further apart. “How many times do I have to tell you this, Eva?”God. God. Why? How did any of this make any sense? Why did I need it? Why did I enjoy it?His hand slipped up my. She clamped his legs with the insides of her thighs. She bent forward, letting her hair brush the tip of his cock. He sucked air between his teeth. She turned her head and ran the tip of her tongue gently along the sensitive underside of the shaft. His hips lifted and he groaned, “The bitch knows how.” Slowly she ran the tip of her tongue around and around the helmet head. He jerked his hips off the bed and growled like an animal. Miranda felt a trickle of excitement running down the inside of. More

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