His hand moved higher, fingers splaying across my ribs, his thumb grazing the underside of my bra. My breath hitched and he pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark and searching.
“I want you to do something for me,” he murmured against my lips.
“What’s that?” I gasped out.
“Let me see you come.”
“N-now?”
He pushed me back against the counter. “Right fucking now.”
All I could do was nod.
He claimed my lips in a rough, hard kiss. His fingers were already on my jeans, working the button free before I could even process the move,
His thumb slipped beneath the waistband of my underwear, pulling it down, rough and sure. I braced my hands on his shoulders, hips tilting toward him. Then his fingers were on me, through the wetness, stroking slow circles over my clit. A moan slipped out, low and helpless.
“Jesus,” he breathed against my neck. “You’re soaked.”
I couldn’t answer. Could barely think. His touch was deliberate, maddening, just enough to make me chase more. Then one finger dipped inside, testing, and I jerked against his hand, craving deeper.
“Look at me,” he said.
I dragged my eyes up. His gaze was dark, intense, locked on my face like he was memorizing every flicker of sensation.
“You feel this? You feel how you’re clenching around my finger?” He pushed in deeper, curling it slightly. “That’s for me.” Another slow stroke. “All this heat and need. For me.”
I whimpered. Nodded.
He added a second finger, stretching me just right, his thumb circling my clit in small, relentless presses. Every nerve lit up. My thighs trembled.
“Gonna come like this?” he murmured, watching my face. “Right here on my hand?”
I couldn’t speak. Just nodded again, breath coming in short bursts. My body stiffened, coiling toward that edge. The world narrowed to the pressure, the friction, the way his fingers owned me.
“Let go,” he said. “I’ve got you.”
And I did.
The orgasm detonated, violent and sweet, my back bowing as pleasure ripped through every muscle. I choked out his name, fingers digging into his shoulders, light exploding behind my eyelids.
He didn’t stop, but his movements, gentler now, eased me down, drawing the climax out until I shuddered and gasped into the quiet kitchen.
His forehead rested against mine, both of us breathing hard. I felt the heat of him, the hard line of his cock pressing into my hip. He’d given me this moment without taking anything for himself.
When I finally opened my eyes, he was watching me.
His gaze was steady, intent, like he was trying to read every thought crossing my face. He reached up to brush his thumb gently across my cheekbone.
“You okay?”
I nodded, still catching my breath. My legs felt like jelly. My brain felt like mush. I was pretty sure if he let go of me right now, I’d collapse into a puddle on his kitchen floor.
“Good.” His mouth curved into a small smile. Satisfied. A little smug, even. He brushed a kiss against my lips and leaned back. “Because we need to talk.”
That snapped me back to reality a bit. “Oh.”
“Yeah. Because I need to know where your head’s at right now.”
