“Oh God,” she gasps, head thrown back, chest arching. “Right there. Don’t stop.”
As if I could.
As if I’d ever deny her anything.
I fuck her with my fingers, steady and deep, matching the rhythm of my tongue working her clit. Her thighs are trembling against my shoulders, her breath catching with every pass of my mouth.
“You’re so fucking good for me,” I growl into her skin. “So wet. So tight.”
She’s getting close, I can feel it. She squeezes around my fingers, her thighs trying to close around my head.
“Let go,” I say. “Come for me.”
I suck harder, fingers stroking that perfect spot, and she shatters.
Gasping my name like a prayer as she comes on my tongue.
I work her through it, gentle now, licking up every drop of her release.
She tries to push me away, fingers trembling in my hair.
“Too much,” she whispers, breathless.
Her whole body is limp, flushed, barely recovered.
I press a kiss to her inner thigh, then her hip, then drag myself up her body, slow and deliberate. Her skin’s warm, glowing.
Her eyes are half-lidded and dazed, but there’s still heat there.
She isn’t done.
Not even close.
“You’re staring,” she murmurs, voice still hoarse from the high.
“You’re mine,” I say simply, dragging my knuckles down her side. “And I like looking at what’s mine.”
She reaches between us, her fingers brushing over the bulge pressing tight against my zipper.
“Then let me return the favor.”
I catch her wrist.
Shake my head once.
“No.”
“Why not?” she pouts.
I lean in, lips grazing her ear.
“Because I’m already past the edge. And I need to be inside you.Now.”
She gasps, legs parting wider.
I rise just enough to shove my pants down and free myself. The moment her eyes fall to my cock, her lips part, hungry and reverent.
“Santo…”
