He shifts back and pushes my sports bra up, leaving my breasts exposed. The air hits me instantly—tightening everything, making me ache.
His fingers keep working my clit as he takes in my bare body, and a slow grin spreads across his face.
“Fuck, Princess. Your nipples are so hard for me. I’m gonna suck them until you’re shaking.”
Without another word, he lowers his head and licks my nipple, his warm tongue curling around the tight peak. He takes his time, like he’s savoring the first taste. The heat makes my body melt, but when he pulls back, the cold air hits the wet peak, turning the sensation sharp, and almost electric.
I let out a broken cry, unable to control it.
He smiles against my skin, clearly pleased with himself. Then he tilts his head and moves to the other nipple. He licks slowly at first, tracing the tight peakin lazy circles that make my legs shake. Then he closes his mouth around it, sucking harder.
His gloved fingers never stop circling my clit. If anything, the way I’m squirming from his mouth makes him stroke me with more purpose.
“Scotty…please…” My voice breaks on the last word.
He lifts his mouth from my breast, the cold air hitting the wet skin again and sending another jolt straight through me.
“Please, what, Princess?” His lips graze my nipple before he licks it again, teasing me with short, soft strokes.
“I…I need…”
I can’t finish.
He pulls back just enough to look down at my thighs trembling around his hand. “You want more?”
Before I can nod, he slides his fingers lower, past my clit, and presses gently at my entrance.
Then he pushes one gloved finger inside me.
I gasp so hard my back arches off the boards. The fabric is cold inside me, the chill hitting a place that has never felt anything like this. The glove is stiff and textured, sliding against me in a way that sends shock waves straight through my core. It shouldn’t feel good, but it does.
“Fuck…” I choke out, gripping his shoulders, nails digging in.
His finger freezes halfway inside me, and he watches every inch of my reaction. “Feel that?” he murmurs, kissing my breasts again. “You like how that glove feels inside you?”
I bite my bottom lip, unable to hide how badly I’m shaking.
“Yes,” I whisper with my eyes closed as I focus on the feeling.
He groans softly, the sound dark and hungry. Then he pushes his finger in all the way, the fabric dragging along my walls, sending a pulse of heat through me that makes my thighs clench around his hand.
“Princess,” he growls, his breath shaking. “You’re drenching my glove. I can feel it through the fabric.”
He curls the finger inside me, slow and devastating.
“And I’ve only given you one.”
He slides a second gloved finger to my entrance, pressing gently, letting me feel the cold fabric there first. The anticipation coils so tight inside me it almost hurts. Then, with a slow, filthy push, he eases it inside next to the first.
I cry out, the sound sharp and helpless.
The glove makes everything feel bigger, fuller. The stiff fabric doesn’t give the way skin does. It keeps its shape, stretching me more than I’ve ever been stretched.
“Oh—God—Scotty…” My back arches, hips lifting into his hand like I can’t stop myself.
He exhales a shaky groan against my breast. “Yeah… that’s it. Take both of them for me.”
He pushes his fingers in deeper, and the fullness hits me all at once—cold, textured, overwhelming—unlocking a sound from my throat I’ve never heard myself make. It feels decadent. It feels obscene. It feels like too much and not enough all at once.
