ZAYLA

I clenched my emptiness, as I felt him against my palm. Hot, veiny and thickly massive with pre ejaculate sliding down his shaft.

He growled, feral and deep, as he ripped my shirt open. The coor air hit my sensitive skin, my nipples hard and aching under his stare.

"Oh, hell," he murmured sinfully and cupped my breasts in his hands, while I stroked him.

Every of my thoughts tangled into one burning ache. I wanted to take him inside me, I wanted to move, to feel him. Before I knew it, my hands were on him. They found the hem of his shirt, trembling — not from fear,...