"That's what I thought." His smile was victory and salvation combined, predator and savior merged into a single devastating entity. "Now let me give you what you've been starving for."
With a guttural cry that was pure, primal fury, she lunged.
She grabbed the front of his shirt, her fingers hooking into the expensive fabric. With a violent, desperate tug, she ripped. Buttons sprayed across the marble floor like shrapnel. The shirt tore open, revealing the hard, sculpted landscape of his chest and abdomen.
Her hands were everywhere, roaming, clawing, not in gentle exploration, but in a frantic attempt to claim as much of him as possible.
She fumbled with his belt, her fingers clumsy with urgency. The buckle jingled, and she yanked his trousers and boxers down in a single, savage motion.
And then it was free.
Her cock.
The monster from the screen. The beautiful, terrifying thing she had masturbated to while crying in her office.
