He didn’t give me a second to breathe. His hands were everywhere—gripping my hips, kneading my ass, dragging me back until my chest pressed flush against the cold, blood-streaked counter. The smell of raw meat mixed with his sweat, his heat, his musk, and it made me shiver and moan before he even touched me where I ached.
“You’re dripping for me,” he growled, teeth grazing my shoulder, lips brushing the curve of my neck. “All over the counter, all over me… look at you, so f*****g wet. You want this, don’t you? You want me to ruin you.”
I gasped, nodding as he flipped me over, fingers clutching his apron, desperate for more. His lips trailed down my chest, teasing my n*****s, brushing my collarbone, finally finding my p***y.
“Oh f**k,” I whimpered as his tongue teased me through my soake
