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Now, normally I’m a pretty calm person. I don’t like fights and avoid agitating people. But the day after a panic attack usually leaves me feeling emotionally raw and unusually aggressive. My mom would say I was like a trapped wolverine, pissed off and ready to maul anyone that got near me.

“So you’re saying this is my fault, because I left my house?” I asked in a deadly voice.

He must have realized that he’d fucked up, because he got this weary look that would have been funny in different circumstances.

“Well….”

“I can’t believe you!” I yelled, throwing my arms over my head. “This is my fault?”

Lightning quick, he was sitting on the side of the bed. He snagged me around the waist before he pulled me back to him. His warmth, his thick muscles and deliciously furry body pressed tight against mine.

“No, no, none of this is your fault. I’m a dickhead. Sorry, baby bear,” he murmured as he tugged at my pajama shirt. “Are there pink hearts on your panties?”

I struggled against him, trying to ignore the way his rough hand on my upper thigh made my body come to life. “Stop trying to see my panties, you perv! We’re having a discussion here.”

“Mmmm,” he let out a carnal growl that had my belly going all quivery. “Cute.”

“Stop it!”

His big hand cupped my bottom and my nipples grew painfully hard as he gazed slightly up at me. There was such a big size difference between us that, even with Mark sitting and me standing, our heads were almost even. I’d never seen him this close before, and I couldn’t stop myself from drinking him in. I noticed frosty glints of almost white in his blue eyes, and as I watched his pupils dilated.

His voice was a whisper as he said, “If I stroke my finger between your legs, baby bear, will your panties be wet?”

My body throbbed in response to the thought of his big hands touching me there. “That’s none of your business.”

His gaze lowered, his dark lashes sweeping down as he stared at my chest. “Did I ever tell you that your nipples drive me fucking crazy?”

“Uh, what?”

His hand flexed on my ass as he leaned forward slightly so his mouth was about an inch away from my breast.

“Sometimes during our video chats, you don’t wear a bra with your old, thin t-shirts. Sometimes it’s cold, or you’re excited, and your nipples get hard.” He let out a rough sigh that seemed to spread over me like a touch. “I’ve wondered what they look like, what color they are, if you’re sensitive or if you need a rough touch. I’ve wanted to put clamps on them, to attach bells and listen to them chime as I fuck you up against a wall. Those perfect fucking tits of yours shaking while I pound into you.”

I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t function. All I could do was struggle to breathe as my desire surged at his dirty talk. When he dropped his hands to the edges of my t-shirt, I held my breath.

“Can I see them?”

I nodded slowly, feeling as if I was having an out of body experience.

Mark, my Mark, was touching me.

My hands flexed before I slowly placed them on his broad shoulders, the velvety feel of his smooth skin an erotic treat for my senses.

Tears burned my nose as I took in the reverent way he looked at my body, like it was the most perfect thing he’d ever seen.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he lifted the sides of my t-shirt, rolling it up and revealing me. At the sight of my panties his nostrils flared, and he pulled me a little closer. Near enough to feel his thick erection pressing against my thigh. I squeezed my legs together, hoping to ease the ach that was building in my core. When my breasts came into sight, Mark let out a pained moan.

“So fucking beautiful. Lovely dark areola with a cherry red nipple on a creamy breast.” He looked up at me, then said, “Open your mouth.”

I was going to ask him why, but the second I parted my lips, he shoved my wadded-up shirt between my teeth.

“Bite down. Good girl. If you want me to stop at any point, you let go of the shirt. Understood?”

A shudder of pure pleasure raced through me at the commanding tone of his voice. My anger quickly turned to passion, and I tried to hold onto it, I really did. But when he leaned forward and brushed his lips ever so gently against my straining nipple, I folded like a house of cards. It was the single most exquisite sensation I’d ever felt. I’d fantasized about Mark a million times, had worn out vibrators in his honor, but even my most vivid fantasies failed to capture the overwhelming pleasure of his touch. We had an explosive chemistry together, one strong enough to enslave me.

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