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“Oh, God. You feel so good. Please, move. Please.”

She was so warm and slick and inviting his breath escaped him for a moment. When his head stopped spinning, he realized he still wasn’t moving. He drew back then pushed forward. Back and forth.

Reagan’s eyes were closed, her teeth biting down on her lip. Soft whimpers filled the room.

He couldn’t hold on any longer, and he wasn’t coming before she did. Not this first time. The need to come was burning him from the inside out.

In. Out. In. Out.

Tiny took her mouth with his, he nipped at her bottom lip before thrusting his tongue between her lips to ravish her. Resting his weight on one hand, he reached between them to flick her clit.

“Sir! Sir, please?”

Her pussy clamped around him, massaging him and a sharp burst of need struck him, nearly making him see double.

“Come, Reagan. Come.” He continued to play with her clit, to thrust himself deep inside her. Finally, he gave thanks as he heard her cry out, felt her pussy ripple around his shaft. Then he let go and exploded.

Ten minutes after the most explosive orgasm she’d ever experienced, Reagan cuddled into Tiny on the bed. He’d removed the nipple clamps and scarves, then quickly cleaned them both—much to her embarrassment. He hadn’t listened to her protests that she could clean herself up. Then he’d laid down on the bed and tucked her into his side.

“You never gave me an answer,” she told him as she twirled her finger around a tattoo on his shoulder.

“Hmm?”

“About why you don’t want to play with me at the club on Saturday night?” There was still a part of her that thought he didn’t want others knowing.

“It’s too public. I can’t guard you and play with you. My focus would be torn.”

“Oh.” That had never occurred to her. “But surely you don’t think someone from the club would be out to hurt me.”

He shrugged. “Can’t take the risk.”

“All right. We’ll stay home, then.” It was slightly disappointing, but as long as she got to spend time with Tiny, she didn’t care where they were.

“Didn’t say that. We’ll go.”

She leaned up on her elbow so she could look down at him. “You don’t care if I scene with someone else?” Because she cared. She cared a lot.

He drew her onto his chest and frowned up at her. “You won’t be scening with someone else. You’re mine.”

She laid her head on his chest. “That’s nice. You’re mine, too.”

He just snorted.

“It would be near impossible for someone to hurt me at the club. Roarke has security cameras everywhere. And Alex and Tara will be there. Nothing will happen. You can take your mind off the job for a few hours.”

“Not happening. But it’s time to look at the other club members.”

“Why?” She leaned up on one elbow. “You surely don’t think my stalker is one of them?”

He shrugged. “It could be anyone. Can’t leave anyone out. Been looking into them, nothing pops up. Time to pay a visit.”

And maybe while they were there they could do a little bit of playing.

“Tell me more about your family.”

“Wh-what?” She couldn’t pull her scrambled thoughts again.

“I want to know you better.”


Tags: Laylah Roberts Doms of Decadence Erotic