The moment he did, she spit up more water. Laughing, Max began to pull back and thrust in. Lily could not even complain as she was too busy spewing water from her stomach each time his hips pressed her belly to the edge of the tub. She lowered her head as close to the floor as she could and just flopped against the side of the tub with her tongue hanging out, licking the white marble in-between bouts of vomiting water.When Lily finally stopped spitting up water and managed to catch her breath, she rolled over so her back was hitting the side of the tub instead. Max winced as he felt her anus spinning around his stationary cock for a moment. When they were finally face to face, Lily glared at him. “Don’t look at your father that way?” he slapped the side of her face. It was not extremely hard but the fact that it was wet made it loud.“I could have drowned,” she complained.“I had to cum,” he responded curtly.“Was that more important than me being able to breathe.”“Yes,” he was blunt.. She settled her features into their usual emotionless mask and opened the door.Seeing Erik Destler at her front door after ten o'clock in the evening surprised her so much that she felt almost proud of her self-control. She did not even arch an eyebrow or cock her head to indicate her curiosity. She simply stood before the doorway and stared at the man. Inwardly, she felt as if her jaw dropped to the floor. Gone were the stilted, formally dressed dandy of the night before and the hesitant, awkward gentleman of earlier this afternoon; in their place stood a man, confident, rugged, sensual. The man wore a dark brown cloak with the hood thrown back over his shoulders hanging down his back. Beneath the cloak, she spied a ruffled white poet's shirt that hung open to his waist and exposed his firmly muscled chest. His chest was bronzed, smooth and hairless. His trousers were a lighter shade of brown than the cloak and tailored to accentuate his narrow waist and hips. Antoinette's control.
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