“Please, please — I’m begging you.” John whimpered softly against your palm, pressing a flurry of kisses to your flesh. He gazed to you with coquettish, half-lidded eyes. Your thumb caressed his scarred, blemished cheek — and he shuddered in response.

“Just spend the night with me. This one time. Please, I need you.” He pleaded, his shaking hands not daring to grab onto your arm. He was trained well.

Shaking like a leaf below you on the bed, he whined for your lavished attention.