Adrian’s voice was still rough from coming down my throat.

“Stand up.”

I pushed myself to my feet on unsteady legs. Spit and cum still coated my chin and the upper curves of my breasts. My lipstick was destroyed. Mascara tracked down my cheeks. The red lace lingerie clung to me in wet patches—especially between my thighs, where the silk was so soaked it had turned translucent.

Adrian’s eyes dragged over every inch of me. He reached out and hooked one finger under the thin strap of the bra, then slowly peeled both straps down my arms. The cups loosened and dropped, freeing my breasts. They felt heavy, swollen, the...