ROXANNE

Aston smiled. A slow, predatory stretch of his lips, as he slowly dragged his finger straight up my slit, spreading my warm pussy juice all over my sensitive lips.

“Don't worry, Roxanne,” he whispered, his tone dropping really low into something dangerously possessive. “I'm not like Beck. You're never going to have to beg to be treated properly with me. I'm saving you from that fate.”

To be honest, I wasn't even paying attention to whatever gibberish was spewing out of his mouth.

I was lost in ecstasy. My thought was far too gone for words. I could only focus on the feeling of his rough finger finally beginning...