He licked his lips. Looked at my eyes, my lips, my eyes again. "Come here, baby."Jean-Luc kissed me, and it was just as good as the last time. His lip... were firm against mine. I felt the very tip of his tongue against my lips. "Open for me, baby," he said against my mouth.And I did.If I thought the kiss before was good, this was magnificent. French kissing had always sounded kind of gross to me. Who wants another person's tongue in your mouth? But that's not what it felt like. It felt like. Hes taunting me. And this encounter was supposed to have been biased in her favor. She was a scorching blonde goddess compared to the little girl Harry lugged around. Her ire grew and her husband fell away into a dark corner of her mind as she focused solely on the limp cock before her. She would make it hard and she would show this arrogant little shit (not so little, and incredibly handsome for a little shit, a voice in her head whispered) what a real woman was like. What he really needs to. More

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