CHAPTER 2: SQUIRTING ON THE PIANO
JORDAN’S POV
She stood then, her skirt pooling at her feet as she stepped out of it with deliberate slowness, leaving her in nothing but a black lace thong so soaked it was translucent, clinging to every fold of her shaved p***y, and those damn stockings that made her legs look endless.
My mouth watered instantly. She was perfection—the swell of her heavy breasts straining the silk blouse, the dip of her waist begging for my hands, the flare of her hips screaming grip and breed.
She knelt before me, hands pushing my thighs apart wide, fingers deftly unbuckling my belt with a clink.
“I’ve been thinking about this c**k since the first day you walked in here,” she confessed, breath hot against the obscene bulge in my pants, her nose brushing the wet spot
