Dry Monsoon

Description

“Do you know what people call you?” “What?” “Polite, tr*sh.” A strictly well-cut smile appeared on the man’s face. Wearing a black suit like armor, he was like a giant castle surrounded by a fortress of iron. She took a step closer to such a man, wrapped a hand around his glossy tie, and yanked it without hesitation. His lips curled and he lowered his eyes, his dark gaze overwhelming his opponent. “If that’s so, throw it away when you want to. I’ll gladly be the gum you chew and spit out.” He grabbed her small chin and pushed his hot tongue into her open lips. Hidden beneath a civilized expression that seemed austere was a raging desire. She realized that stimulating him was a mistake. “This is the first time I’ve felt aroused from being called tr*sh.” “How was it? Can you chew well?” Show more