Chapter 214 The Taste Of An Enemy

• My hand flew into his hair, fingers curling tight, holding him there—afraid he might pull away, afraid of losing even a second of it.
• His mouth latched onto my clit like he was starving for it, sucking hard and relentless, the wet sounds of his tongue flicking and swirling filling the room.
• My black panties were still crammed in my mouth, muffling my moans into desperate, guttural whimpers as saliva dripped down my chin.