Rain lashed against the window, casting the room in a dim, murky light. He took Joyce Monroe's hand, guiding it from his chest, down his abdomen…
Joyce's breathing grew ragged. With the previous photos and videos, he had already teased her countless times.
Appetite and desire are only natural.
'He's my husband, anyway. What's wrong with a little touch?'
She was putting up a token resistance, but she never expected him to take her hand and…
…guide it all the way down!
His body was taut, and he seemed to have broken a light sweat, making his skin feel damp and hot.
His fair skin was flushed with a pale pink.
His eyes were bloodshot as he stared at her, an incredibly seductive sight.
The veins on his arms bulged as he propped himself up beside her. His hoarse voice was close to her ear, whispering her name, slowly ensnaring her. "Joyce, please…?"
His gaze was scorching, his voice gentle and deep.
His fiery breath drew near, burning away the last of Joyce Monroe's reason.
