ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❝ mm ? ❞ a pout wiggles into place at the comment, dark eyes doe - like. fingers roam down, down, down, until it meets the zipper of his jeans. ❝ you don’t feel mad to me. ❞ tries to hide the cockiness from her voice as hand cups the bulge from outside his jeans, proud that she managed to still have this effect on him. fighting or not — god bless the black cut out dress that just barely covered her ass.








