Fifty Shades Of Lovia
the brunette said, stepping closer, her hand trailing down my chest.
"Sasha," the blonde added, batting lashes that screamed fake.
I poured myself a scotch, neat, and downed half in one swallow. The burn matched the fire in my veins. "Strip."
They didn’t hesitate. Good girls. Valeria peeled off her lace slowly, teasing, hips swaying to the muffled bass from outside.
Her breasts spilled free—heavy, nipples already peaked in the cool air.
Sasha was quicker, efficient, kicking off her heels and shimmying out of the fishnets, revealing smooth, shaved skin that begged to be marked.