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11 - Good Girl

11 - Good Girl

Ivy

“I prefer the lilac color.”

“Of course, you do.”

I pouted and batted my lashes at him, but he booped my nose and said, “Be good.” Aiden walked over to see another curtain.

We were in IKEA, shopping for furniture and the necessary stuff for Aiden’s new home. After joining me in the shower, completely naked, he had conditioned my hair when I told him I already shampooed it and asked—no, ordered me, to stay steady and keep my back arched when he knelt on the bathroom floor to eat me out. I would have slipped and gotten concussion when I climaxed in a couple of minutes if his arm hadn’t held me.

When we had finally walked out of the shower and got dressed, he told me he wanted to celebrate with me for getting a new home.

“You bought a house?” I was excited. Very excited. So much. But it meant not having him at Hayden’s house more often. It meant no sharing breakfasts or dinners or showering together or sleeping with him on the bed after watching a scary movie togeth
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