Julian brushed a strand of hair from her cheek with surprising gentleness. "I can. Once you stopped fighting yourself, everything you said came out naturally."
Olivia's gaze flicked away. "That is what frightens me."
"Did you feel good?" he asked.
The question made her pause.
"…Yes," she said at last. "I felt good. Too good."
Olivia's gaze dropped to her own sticky fingers, then to the mess across her stomach. Instead of flinching, she rubbed his cum slowly between her fingertips, feeling the evidence of what she had taken from him.
"I did feel good," she said before he could ask again. "Watching you drink from me... feeling you throb in my hand. Hearing myself tell my own son to cum for his mother." Her eyes lifted again. "It felt filthy. And I liked it."
Julian's smile deepened. "Say that last part again."
