And he stops, with his palm cradling my pussy.
His mouth parts against my skin.
“Fuck…” he tries, then stops. “You—you feel?—”
A breathless, half-laugh breaks free from him.
He clenches his jaw, tilting his head against mine.
“Sonny—I don’t—Fuck,I can’t even think straight.”
Every nerve I’ve got wraps around his finger, begging him to stay.
And when he slides out, my thighs clench on instinct to stop him.
A whimper catches in my throat.
Then he sinks back in—deeper.
And I hold on—tighter.
His hips shudder—again.
His cock grinds up against me,
aching for more.
He groans, low from his throat,
muttering words I can’t quite catch,
his whole body trying not to come just from being inside me like this.
Another stroke,
and it drags a spark from somewhere deep.
My thighs tremble.
I’m slipping under.
One finger, nothing more.
It’s all he gives me.
It’s all he wants inside me.
One finger,
hugging the curve and fucking me slowly.
He’s intoxicated,
his chest hammering my spine.
He pins me against his erection
to steady himself,
