The drinks are empty, the lights are low, and Alayha? She’s finally clocking in for the real work. Hands roam, mouths claim, and soon, she’s drowning in pleasure, lost in the heat of bodies that refuse to let her go. Every gasp, every shiver, every moan is answered with more, her body worshiped, taken, and utterly ruined by the end of the night. And trust me, darlings—she wouldn’t have it any other way.
XOXO, Ashleigh
Ms Ashleigh Rowan
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