Grant’s head tips back, his jaw clenching as a low, guttural sound escapes him, his control fraying at the edges.
Her hand wraps around him, her fingers curling with just the right pressure.
She strokes him in long, even strokes, her palm rolling over the slick head of his cock with each pass, drawing a faint sheen of precum that glistens in the dim light.
The rhythm she sets is almost teasing and I can see the way Grant’s chest rises and falls, his breathing coming faster now.
Her lips hover just above his head, close enough that the warmth of her breath ghosts over his skin like a fleeting promise of what’s to come.
Then, agonizingly slow, she presses her lips to the underside of his tip, her tongue flicking out just enough to taste him.
“Fuck,” Grant mutters, the word punched out of him. His other hand twitches at his side like he’s fighting the urge to grab her and pull her closer.
My hands, restless now, slide down her sides to trace the gentle dip of her waist.
Her body is a map of soft curves, each touch drawing a new reaction from her.
I slip my hands under her shirt, the fabric bunching as my fingers graze her bare skin.
She shivers again in a full-body response that makes my pulse race, her sensitivity amplifying the heat building between us.
My thumbs brush the soft skin just above her hips and I can’t help but marvel at how perfectly she fits against me, how every touch seems to pull her deeper into this shared rhythm.
Her head bobs now, taking Grant deeper, her lips sliding along his length making wet noises as she sucks on him.
His eyes darken, heavy-lidded and intense as he watches her move, his gaze fixed on the way her mouth works him over.
There’s something almost reverent in his expression, a mix of awe and hunger that mirrors the tightness in my own chest.
Grant’s hand moves to her hair now, his fingers threading gently through the strands, guiding her movements without forcing her to swallow all of him at once.
“God, you’re—” he starts, but the words dissolve into a low groan as her tongue swirls over him.
My lips find the nape of her neck, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the sensitive skin there.
She shudders, the motion rippling through her body, and Grant feels the vibration of her muffled moan around his cock.
I slide one hand higher, cupping the curve of her breast through the thin fabric of her bra, my thumb brushing over the hardened peak underneath.
Her breath hitches, her rhythm faltering for just a moment.
“Fuck, you’re killing me,” Grant mutters, his voice rough, strained. His hips shift slightly, a subtle roll that betrays how much he’s holding back.
She responds by taking him deeper, her hand still working in tandem with her mouth, stroking what her lips can’t reach.
I slip my other hand lower, fingers dipping just beneath the waistband of her jeans, teasing the soft skin above her hipbone.
She tenses briefly then relaxes into my touch, her hips tilting back toward me in silent encouragement.
My lips move to her ear and I murmur, “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.”
Grant’s hand tightens in her hair, his breaths coming faster now, more ragged.
“I’m close,” he warns.
She hums in response, the vibration drawing another curse from him.
My hands roam her body, one still teasing beneath her shirt, the other slipping over to the button of her jeans.
