Married Men Don't Strip....right?|18+
Jaxiel-her hot, married neighbor.
Yes, she bought him. For a night. From his wife.
"He's all yours," Livia said, tossing her curls like a bored queen. Heavily pregnant and smug, she strutted out of the bedroom like a proud pimp, not looking back.
The door clicked shut. Silence.
"This isn't the first time, is it?" Starr asked, her eyes locked on the shirtless man standing in front of her. His jeans hung loose on his hips, belt already undone.
"No," Jaxiel said simply, a bitter laugh following his answer.
He stepped closer-close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off his skin. His hand slid between her thighs, slow and certain, fingers tracing the soaked fabric of her panties.
"You're wet already?"
She didn't respond.
"Do you really like it?" she asked instead, voice steady, detached.
That question stopped him. He blinked, like no one had ever dared ask him that before.
Because no one had. Not Livia. Not the women. Not even himself.
He didn't answer either.
Then-he kissed her. No warning. No build-up. Just mouth on mouth, breath on breath.
His fingers slipped past the fabric, inside her. She gasped against his lips, but didn't pull away.
He explored her with slow, aching strokes-like he was trying to forget who he was. Who she was. What this was.
For the first time, he wasn't just being used.
And for the first time, she didn't feel like using.
