JACK-EYE
I have no idea what I'm doing.
Not that I'd ever admit it out loud. I've had my share of women—more than my share, if we're being honest—but this is different. Lyre wants something more. Something with teeth and edges. A dominance running deeper than two bodies colliding.
Her ass is pink from my hand, a perfect handprint streaked across her creamy skin. She's still on all fours, legs spread just enough to give me a cock-throbbing view. She's wet—slick and glistening—and every instinct in my body screams to just drive into her, claim her, make her mine.
But no. First things first. Stop getting distracted, Jack-Eye.