Page 33 of Her Older Sheikh

He sucks and sucks and sucks, and all I can do is clutch the back of the couch as he claims this secret part of me like he promised.

My nipples are now on fire, and a cry spills past my lips as he moves to claim my other tit and the whole tortuously perfect cycle begins anew.

Don't stop, please.

And he doesn't.

He just sucks and sucks and sucks, and the way he does it, oh gosh—-

It's just so violently, agonizinglyperfect-—

That all I can do is moan the truth as I start to cum.

I love you.

The words tumble past my lips, and I can't seem to stop moaning them over and over and over.

I love you.

I love you.

I love you.

My orgasm feels endless, but the final tremors eventually fade, and that's when sanity slaps me in the face.

Have you lost your mind, self?

I try to scramble off his lap, but Rashad pulls me back down, and my throat tightens in fear.

"What did you say?" he asks hoarsely.

"Nothing."

"Don't lie."

"Just forget what I said," I cry out.

"I can't."

"Why?"

"Because I want to say it back."

I stare at him in shock. "D-Don't toy with me like this."

"I'm not."

My heart bangs against my chest, and I want to pinch myself just to make sure this isn't all a dream.

"Say it," Rashad urges. "Say it, Madeleine."

Fear makes me want to refuse him, but when I see the way he's looking at me, the words simply spill out—-

"I love you."

Rashad cups my face, and my heart feels like it's about to burst.

Is this truly happening, self?

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