Savannah's POV
I love you, Jonathan.
They say shame has its boundaries, a natural stopping point that keeps people grounded in reality.
But once you cross that invisible line of dignity, madness becomes your only companion.
Perhaps that explains why my fingers tangled in that cheap blonde hairpiece, pulling his head back with more force than I intended. The motion wasn't meant to be harsh, just decisive.
Because I had already abandoned all sense of propriety while watching this man look up at me from between my thighs, my arousal glistening on his lips.
Still, his eyes burned bright with dilated pupils, caught somewhere between ravenous desire and willing surrender.
I traced my finger across his wet mouth, collecting the moisture slowly before pushing it past his lips, pressing down on his tongue with deliberate pressure.
"Getting a little too comfortable tasting your wife?"
