I frowned at the fur-covered handcuffs constraining me to my headboard and spent a few seconds muttering until I could twist into a somewhat upright position.Īcross the room, she pulled on her stretchy black yoga pants I’d taken off last night with my teeth. You’re not leaving, are you? I tried to sit up again. And damn, she looked really good in those silky black panties, especially from the back, where I could see two tanned cheeks peeking out the bottom of all that swirling lace. Not then, anyway.Īpparently, it did now since she’d gone and hidden hers under a silky piece of black lace. But in the lyrics of Jason Derulo, her booty hadn’t needed explaining. I hadn’t been able to pull more than a dozen words from her since we’d met, and nothing she’d said so far had been in English. She didn’t answer, which wasn’t surprising. Blinking myself back into better consciousness, I tried to sit up and found it damn near impossible. Wait, no, that wasn’t supposed to happen. She slid off the bed and presented me with a spectacular view of the most perfect ass ever, and my smile grew eager.until she pulled on a pair of panties and then reached for her bra. I opened my bleary eyes, half-awake from postcoital bliss as the naked woman on top of me shifted, the soft, smooth warmth of her flesh caressing my own.
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