He needs to feel mefeelinghim.
“You run this. You got full fuckin’ control.” His gaze crawls back up to mine, eyes red-rimmed andblownwith a fucked-out stare. “You feel good? All I fuckin’ care about. You feelin’ good makes me feel good.”
He grins.
“Swear to God—I won’t even fuckin’ move?—”
I shove him onto his back,
and he’s pulling me down with him,
a laugh cracking out of him and crashing into my mouth.
He lays there,
his cock in my hand,
his heart in his eyes,
as I drag my pussy up the length of him,
sliding over the thick ridge, slow and soaking.
‘Til the head catches under my clit.
I grind against it, every nerve lighting up from my pussy to my throat.
My head falls forward with a gasp,
but Andrew’s there,
mouth catching mine in a wet, shaking moan.
With each slow grind,
everything turns up louder and louder.
His mouth breaks, eyes falling between us,
fingers drowning in my hair,
yanking at the roots,
breath shuddering out of him
as if he can’t take it.
His cock’s drenched in me,
the head flushed and throbbing.
I press harder with a long grind,
and his abs flex between my thighs.
“Angel—Christ—the fuck you doin’ to me?”
Another groan leaves him.
