I pressed my finger against his lips. “The implant has a year left, and perhaps if you don’t piss me off too much, we’ll revisit this then. So for now, tuck those little dreams back in their little box, because it is not up for discussion. Are we clear, Mr. Stone?”
“Crystal, Miss McCartney.” He slid his hand beneath my shorts and tugged on my bottom lip with his teeth. “Now, are you done with your requirements—uh, rules?”
“Uh, um, yep.” I breathed what passed for words as he brushed his nose down my neck.
“Good.” He stood and lifted me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, and he walked in the direction of the bedroom. “Because my cock has a requirement you need to fulfill. Right now.”
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