He withdrew the digit before pressing it deep again. And against. Each stroke was slow and gentle.
It wasn’t enough.
“More,” I said. My voice caught, and the word never escaped my throat.
“What did you say?” he asked.
I shivered at the low rumble of his voice, lower than it had ever been before. Holy shit, my entire body vibrated with the sound.
“More,” I repeated. This time the word was cleared, though my voice was hoarse.
His strokes remained slow and gentle as he asked, “More what?”
He didn’t sound confused. He sounded… intense. And curious. I understood he wanted, no, needed, me to tell him exactly what I meant. The idea filled my face with heat, but my body still burned. The only way I would get what my body needed was to tell him specifically what I wanted him to do to me.
“Slow and deep, but harder,” I answered. “And I need another finger.”
That same low growl I’d heard that morning vibrated against my back, making me arch and shudder against him. I could feel the rumble inside my body, rolling through my back and out to my limbs like thunder.
Gradually, he worked another finger inside me, his thrusts getting harder, making my body shake with each one. Loud, wet sounds accompanied each stroke, revealing how much his touch affected my body.
“Bend your fingers a little and put pressure against the front wall of?—”
Before I could finish my instruction, he did exactly what I said, and his palm slapped against my clit as he thrust his fingers deep.
I cried out, rising up on my toes as the contact sent an arc of sensation through my clit to the rest of my body.
He stopped moving. I heard myself whimper but couldn’t summon the will to be embarrassed.
“Don’t stop!” I demanded, digging my fingers into his forearm.
He repeated the stroke, his palm slapping my clit again, this time a little harder.
“Yesss,” I hissed.
My thighs shook as I rose on my toes again.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” he groaned out against my temple.
I shook my head. “You’re not. You’re not.”
A breathless moan escaped me when he picked up speed and finger-fucked me harder. With each slam of his palm against my clit, I felt my body winding tighter, moving closer and closer to orgasm.
The tension burst, exploding through me and seizing my limbs. I cried out, my head falling back against his chest as I shuddered in his hold. When his movement slowed, I reached down, urging him to keep stroking his fingers inside me.
As he had before, Bokkan took my direction immediately and resumed the deep, hard thrusts of his hand. The climax crested, turning sharp, until I could take no more. I slapped both hands down over his, holding his hand deep inside me, and clenched my thighs together. My hips undulated with each spasm of my pussy, and my entire body trembled with the force of the pleasure.
When I finally collapsed against him, Bokkan wrapped his other arm around my waist, holding me up with his fingers in my pussy and the arm cradling my torso. I felt completely limp and sated by the most powerful orgasm I’d ever experienced.
We stood in silence for a few moments, both of us breathing hard. My mind searched for the words I should use, but the thoughts vanished as soon as the ache returned to my lower abdomen.
I’d just had an incredible orgasm, yet my body was heating up, urging me to find more pleasure. Over and over again.
Wet trickled down my inner thigh, and I shifted in Bokkan’s grip. I gasped when sharp teeth found the back of my neck.
“You’re going to need me again soon,” Bokkan growled out, soothing the sting of his nip with his tongue. “I can smell it.”
Well, that answered my question about his heightened senses. He could smell the changes in my emotions.
