His voice, his fingers, the heat of him.
It threatens to spill over, and?—
my fingers claw at his back,
pulling him into me,
pressing my face into his neck.
His hand slides up and down my thigh,
pinning me close.
My head falls back against the brick again,
my chest heaving, my thighs trembling.
Andrew drops his head to mine,
picks up the speed,
watching my face as the orgasm rips out of me.
I come with my mouth open and no sound.
Like it was waiting behind a locked door,
and he just kicked it down.
And I hate how good he feels. How easy he makes it. How I didn’t have to beg, didn’t have to ask. How he just slid his hand between my thighs, and my body fuckingweptfor him.
He slows as our bodies come down,
chests heaving as one.
Then two fingers sink down the center of me.
Unhurried, stopping at my entrance.
His stare grips mine,
catching the way my breath scatters across my lips.
He draws heavy circles,
pressing two fingers against the pulse of my orgasm.
Then he drags them back up,
collecting everything he pulled out of me?—
soaking his fingers.
Then they curl over my clit one last time,
making his touch echo in my bones.
It was supposed to be five minutes?—
