Sarah
Benton leads me to the nineteenth floor of a vast hotel, one I don’t even get the name of because I’m too busy trying to keep up with him to look. He holds my hand tightly in the elevator; the nerves I felt seem to have evaporated; all I can feel is a desperate longing for the man standing next to me.
Surely it should be illegal for a man to look and smell as good as he does?
I can’t believe I’m standing next to him, going to his hotel room to be fuc.ked by him!
My whole body is humming with want. I’m not wearing any panties, and I feel like a slu.t. Okay, not a slu.t, but I am zinging with desire.
Why do I feel like this?
Why do I feel like I could go all night with him?
I never knew I could feel such a se.xual connection to anyone, and it’s not just because he’s handsome and
