“Show me what you thought about,” I stressed, jutting my hips upward. “Fuck me with your touch.”
His growl sank marrow deep. Diving into the hole in my drawers, two fingers pried open the slit, the rip audible. Not enough to destroy the garment, but enough for my cunt to lift from the aperture.
The knight’s breath stalled. My clit flushed from the apex, vines imprinted across my bare pussy, and the pleat glistened. I waxed my skin, a habit I had adopted from Briar, Flare, and the ladies.
Aire’s speechless reaction wetted me further. His eyes on my pussy was a palpable force, a shocked rasp grating from his lungs, equally covetous and predatory. Then he cupped my naked flesh, holding it like something priceless.
Warmth covered my skin, my arousal coated his palm, and a plaintive moan fell off my tongue. “Aire!”
“Fuck almighty,” he groaned. “The shape of your pussy is beautiful.”
Every curse slipping from his mouth played like a ballad to my ears. For having such a clean vocabulary, this warrior hadn’t shied away. In private with someone he trusted, someone who smashed his self-control to bits… that woman got to hear every candid obscenity. She also got to feel what her pleasure did to him, how it shattered this model citizen to pieces.
And how his body yielded.
Aire’s cock thickened beneath me, the flared head abrading my ass. Reaching up to clasp his nape, I rolled into him, the friction aggravating from either side, his dick and fingers stimulating each end. The movements bucked my pussy into his waiting hand, my cunt dripping onto his gloves.
The knight sputtered an oath. Synchronizing with me, he palmed my flesh, massaging in a languid rhythm. His moans tangled with my own, and his fingers pressed harder, slowly masturbating me until my eyelids fluttered.
Blood raced across my veins. My toes curled inside my boots.
And then he bent his fingers. And sank one between my lips.
A fractured cry broke from my chest. His broad finger pitched deeply, the tight walls of my pussy clasping him.
Aire hissed again. “Oh Seasons, Aspen.”
Swiveling my waist, I lodged him higher, sealing him in, sucking him in. Murmuring encouragements, the knight slunghis hand back and forth, matching the cadence, working into me with deft strokes. Dipping our gazes, we stared as my pussy beat against his wrist, every entry and retreat visible in the muted light.
Next, Aire added a second finger. Then a third, filling me so good.
Sobbing, I arched like a bowstring, my head swinging backward to land on Aire’s shoulder. Using his nape for balance, I gyrated onto his hand, and he pistoned with sinuous precision. He tapped into my cries, knowing where to strike, which condensed places to hit.
Within moments, the knight had me screeching. And thank hell for the trunk’s density, otherwise every creature in this forest would hear.
Withdrawing, Aire grunted in frustration and wrenched off the glove with his teeth. Flinging the accessory aside, he thrust between my thighs again, his unclad fingers pulling a shout from my throat.
With every tender thrust, hard heat siphoned inside me. At the same time, his thumb nudged my clit, inflating it more, patting the crest.
All hell broke loose. I threw my head farther back. My thighs fell apart, and I writhed onto his hand, fluid drizzling to Aire’s wrists.
Guttural sounds chuffed from his mouth, the steam of his breath rushing against the underside of my jaw. His opposite grasp elevated my leg higher, sprawling me as far as possible, the better to view my pussy and his fingers gently slamming together.
Planting my free foot on the loamy floor, I heaved into his torso, using the leverage to jolt backward. My ass railed over his cock, the stimulation inciting mayhem. Aire’s baritone scrapedthrough the hollow, the low, stunned noise surging from him, the flared outline of his crown launching through the pants.
I imagined how it looked under the closures. The pitched head would be dark and feverish, with a disobedient bead of cum sneaking from his incision. The column would be long and taut, sinewy veins pulping across his flesh. He would be thick and heavy, hot to the touch, and as solid as iron.
Gorgeous. And mine.
My nerve-endings sizzled, pleasure buzzing through me. Like a woman on a new mission, I charged at his dick. Determined to wring every sound in existence from this soldier, I swiveled my backside, sweeping between his crown and his fingers.
Aire made a feral noise and escalated his efforts. His hand snapped gingerly, groping my cunt, probing it so that I spilled on him.
“Fuck,” I entreated. “Fuck, right there.”
“Where?” he urged. “Here?”
And when he increased the pressure, I lost my hold on reality. Tracing my clit, he rolled the peg of skin under his thumb, exerting the right amount of pressure. I leaped off the ground, my hips launching against his fingers, my cunt snaring him deeply.
