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Don't Shoot the Messenger
“Shouldn’t we do this on our honeymoon?”, I asked taking off my dress.
Aven scoffed, giving me a smirk, “Press your stomach against the bed, and I’ll do all the work.”
I sat on his bed facing him. “What am I to you? A pretty trophy or a convenient sex toy”.
Aven looked at me. “I have plenty of toys that I play with, but I want you right now.”
“Why?” I raised a brow.
He sighed. “No more questions lay on your stomach.”
I took off my undergarments and showed Aven my bare breasts. “Isn’t that better than laying on my stomach?”
“Much better,” he approached m
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