Lips parted.
Eyes heavy and locked on mine like there’s nowhere else she wants to be.
And it hits me—Esme’s not holding back.
Not like I am.
Not like she should be if any of this was a lie.
“You close?” I ask, my voice dropping lower, rougher, like I’m testing her.
Testing this.
Testing us.
“I—I’m close,” she breathes, her voice breaking in a way that tightens something deep in my chest.
God.
She sounds like she used to.
Like she still feels it.
Like I didn’t imagine everything we had.
“Tell me what you need,” I demand, my control slipping just enough to let the edge through.
I keep my thrusting shallow as I get nearer and nearer to her clit with my searching fingers.
“Oh God, please,” she begs.
“What do you want? Want me to rub this clit while I fuck you deep? Is that what you want?”
“Yes, please!”
“Such a dirty girl, aren’t you? You just had to ask,” I tell her and rear up on my knees, so that she’s sitting on my lap.
Her pussy trembles around my cock, and it feels so good—so goddamn right.
And with her sitting on me like this?
Well, I can see everything.
Her sweet, juicy, pink cunt is spread open, and my thick cock is filling her, spreading her lips—and it’s the best damn sight I’ve ever seen.
But now, I need her to say it.
Need her to choose this.
Choose me.
“Tell me,” I growl.
“Oh God, yes.”
“Tell me you missed this. Tell me you want this.”
“Please, Benji, please,” she whispers.
