Chapter 70

Picasso stood up to me, urging me to lie on the bed. He kissed me before I could lean back on the sheet, dragging me back to that place of conflicting and delicious sensations. It was only one day. A single day since the first and last time we kissed, and my chest burned with a very strange feeling, which almost came close to longing.

My mouth opened for him, leaving free space for his tongue to invade me and devour me. Picasso made our lips snap, when he kissed me in a lascivious and demanding way, moving a few centimeters away. The snap of our lips made me sigh softly, too obscene to be normal, and Picasso opened a cruel smile.

"I want to fuck you until I can't think of anything anymore," he said, leaning towards me again. He provoked me by kissing in that way that he pulled my lips and walked away again. "Nothing but my dick inside you.

"Shit shit," I whispered, unconsciously pulling my thighs together.

Picasso gave another lo