“I couldn’t help myself,” he murmurs, hands roaming. The first train of the day is a blur of bodies and desires. She revels in the attention, her own cravings surfacing beneath the surface. No limits—just instinctual impulse.
“I couldn’t help myself,” he murmurs, hands roaming. The first train of the day is a blur of bodies and desires. She revels in the attention, her own cravings surfacing beneath the surface. No limits—just instinctual impulse.