EXTRA IX. WHO IS THE WHORE HERE?

BEOF

"Do you come inside every prostitute you sleep with?" she finally responded, her question a bit strange.

Her voice—low, vibrant, confident—was driving me insane.

We locked eyes, and I could swear I saw a hint of reproach in hers.

"No, actually, I don’t usually do that. But with you, I will. Is that a problem? Don’t they use those potions here to prevent pups?" I frowned slightly.

I really hoped she’d let me finish inside her. I didn’t think I’d be able to pull out at the last second.

She seemed lost in thought.

I started to grow anxious, especially when her gaze dropped to my cock, now making a very familiar tent in my pants.

"Please don’t reject me. Damn it, don’t reject me," I found myself even begging in my head.

Her small hand lowered, exploring, and I let her. She was going to see it sooner or later. It wasn’t like I could change anything about it.

Better a quick pain than a slow one—if she was going to say no, better to do it now.

For the first time, I felt like I might hit
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