What does your dick say?

She leans back against the headboard, one brow arched, lips curved into something between a smirk and a dare. Her eyes lock onto yours with the kind of patience that isn't patient at all.

You open your mouth. Nothing useful comes out. She tilts her head, waiting, and somehow that small movement undoes you more than anything she's done yet.

Your body answers before your brain does — heat rising, pulse spiking, every coherent thought dissolving. Turns out your dick has quite a lot to say. She already knew that. She just wanted to watch you figure it out.