ScarlettVey00
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Fuck, Bryce!" the red-haired girl screamed, her voice echoing across the open balcony as another wave of pleasure surged through her. Her back arched, nipples brushing the cool velvet of the snooker table, toes curling as her fifth orgasm tore through her like a storm.
She was one of the loud ones. Bryce didn’t care for noise, but she had been flexible — eager — and tonight, he needed someone who didn’t ask questions.
She’d come running, like they all did, when his voice hit their phones. His whores always did. It wasn’t love. It wasn’t even lust. It was a habit. Power. Routine.
He didn’t come with her