Page 125 of Dark Heart

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Swiftly, I create an account and log in. One page in, I gasp and take a deep breath. Oh, shit... I feel like my heart is crawling up my neck.

Am I losing it already?

I can do this.

You can do it, Senna.

I wish I could laugh and not take it so seriously, but this feels more like pain than anything else.

Gripping the edge of the sink, I brace myself.

A picture of his bare torso greets me. It’s definitely him. I recognize the line of his shoulders, the ink, the scars, the teasing hips, and the washboard abdomen.

He looks like he just walked out of the gym, his muscles pumped up, his skin glistening with sweat.

Sweatpants ride low on his hips, the outline of his hard cock pushing against the soft fabric.

I swallow a couple of times, my throat dry like chalk.

I run my eyes over the pictures. It’s him. Everywhere... In full splendor. Teasing. Enticing. Getting me hot and wet between my legs. Not only me... Of course. There must be others.

Gaping, I take him in. I drink him in. Pouring the images of him into my brain. Letting him poison me, making me addicted to him.

He’s, um... naked. In the bed, in the shower, or in the armchair. A sheet thrown here, a pillow over there, or a towel wrapped around his waist. The angle carefully chosen, revealing enough but never too much.

Picture after picture teases the hell out of me, making me drool and swallow hard. This whole thing is meant to drive his viewers crazy.

As if it’s not enough, tantalizing gifs turn up the heat.

Hands gliding down his body, sliding off his jeans, sweatpants, or a sheet.

Sometimes they unwrap a towel, offering a glimpse of his erection, but never the entire thing.

And then comes the notorious roll of his hips. Oh, my... Now, I know what she was talking about.

A side angle... The shirt is completely open, his jeans barely clinging to his hips, and his fly is half undone. Shoulders propped against a wall, he teasingly rocks his hips, drawing slow, sensual moves that make my thighs clench as if he enters me.

The snippet runs on a loop. I watch it over and over again, tense and breathless. My neck feels sore from the awkward position.

And that’s not all.

There’s a full section for premium members, and with nothing better to do, I purchase the entire, fucking package.

Ironic, isn’t it?

Automated to perfection, the damn thing throws money at his bank account. Talking about a great business model.

I click on the first video clip.

My mouth drops open.

Sprawled on his back, one arm folded under his head, he slides his hand down his abs and reaches his erection. He wraps his fingers around the engorged flesh and rolls his hand up and down his hard length. The memory of our trip to the Keys comes back to me, spurring a rush of tingles between my legs.

His eyes remain close, his abs waving slightly.

His back arches, his hard butt pressing against the mattress as he spreads his legs a little more, giving the camera a full view.

Tight balls, trimmed groin, and the smooth outline of his cock fill my view, the image sending shockwaves through my brain. Veins wrap around his girth like plump vines. I feel a sweet pain in my sex.


Tags: Shayne Ford Romance