Six Sentence Sunday
Six more sentences from A MATTER OF LUST.
Trask and Rena have just left the dance floor, needing to go someplace a little more private.
“We’re going upstairs,” she said, typing on a security keypad to unlock a door in the far back corner of the club. “To my office.”
“Your office?” He knew he probably sounded like a bit of an idiot, repeating everything she said, but the words had a hard time penetrating through the cloud of his hunger. He needed her naked, writhing beneath him, his mouth on her breast, his cock hard and deep inside her. He couldn’t quite comprehend how not leaving the club was going to allow him to achieve these things.
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