Then her hand found his thigh. "You know," she murmured, her lips brushing his ear, "I’ve been thinking about this drive up here all week. Watching you concentrate on the road. Your jaw. Your hands on the wheel." Her fingers traced higher. "I’ve been patient."
Shaiden’s laugh filled the car. "Oh, honey. Next weekend. I’m just getting started." End.
He groaned. But when she looked up at him with that little smirk, he knew he was a dead man. And he wouldn’t have had it any other way.
"Thirsty?" she asked innocently.
She didn’t ask. She took.
"One what?" he panted.
They arrived Friday evening. By the time Alex had the fire going, she had already changed into his favorite sweater—the one that hung off her shoulder—and was pouring two glasses of red wine. "Relax," she whispered, guiding him to the worn leather couch. Shaiden Rogue - Girlfriend Drains My Balls In -...
"You can," she said, pulling him toward the bedroom. "And you will. That’s what a boyfriend is for." By Saturday night, Alex had lost count. His body was a pleasant, aching void. He lay sprawled across the bed, sheets tangled, while Shaiden traced lazy patterns on his chest.
"And you said no." Her smile was pure wickedness. "But now we’re here. No cell service. No neighbors. Just you and me… and my growing need to drain every last bit of stress out of you."
That one left him gripping the counter for support. "Shaiden… I literally can’t." Then her hand found his thigh
And he did. For about an hour.
He didn’t deny it. He couldn’t. His brain was too empty—drained, you might say—to form a coherent argument.
The first round was slow, deliberate. Shaiden knelt between his legs on the fluffy rug, her dark hair spilling over his lap as she worked him with a maddening rhythm—eyes locked on his, pausing only to whisper, "Watch me." By the time he finished, his head was thrown back against the couch, and she was licking her lips. "One," she counted. Your jaw