What is he doing?
The warmth of his hand soaks through the damp lace and into my skin, and my body does not care one bit what the tactical reason for any of this is. It cares only that his hand is there, right there, against the place that has been aching since I saw him palming himself not so long ago.
The throbbing gets a little worse where he is pressing both against my channel and my clit. It feels good but not enough. A part of me wants to rub against him. I want to move. I want him to move.
I close my eyes.
I am going to hell for this. I am going to hell, and I deserve it.
He presses a little tighter, and I have to press my lips together so that absolutely nothing comes out of my mouth because they are here.
They’re pushing through undergrowth, a low huffing exhale between bodies, the drag of something against bark. How many I cannot tell, and I don’t want to.
They are loud, grunting and pounding their feet against the ground with every footfall.
There’s snuffling and one of them stops walking.
No!
Please.
My hand on Magma’s arm tightens.
“What is it?” It’s a gruff male voice, almost inhuman, and I hold my breath.
“Ummm…ahhhhhh…” There’s more snuffling. “I thought I scented something. This way.”
They keep going.
“That deer passed through here,” another voice growls.
Magma stays still above me, his hand steady, his chest barely moving.
It sounds like the males are walking away.
I exhale softly.
My grip on his arm loosens by degrees. The shaking in my legs does not stop, but it gentles a little.
He doesn’t move his hand. Not yet.
We wait and wait and wait some more until my ass starts to feel numb and my legs start to cramp.
When he finally lifts his hand away, the barest drag of his palm across the damp lace sends a sharp little pulse right through the center of me, and I bite down to stop myself from moaning.
That’s it. It’s clear that I’m a total weirdo.
He doesn’t move off me.
He stays still.
His cock is thick and heavy between us, and it twitches again, and I have to stop myself from shifting my hips and opening my knees to feel him settle there between them. To put him at the heart of me.
No.
Absolutely not.
Eventually, after what feels like a long stretch of time, he brings his mouth to my ear. “I think they’re gone,” he whispers, then eases himself off me.
