“I grabbed it at the drugstore.”
While she went to pay for a few bottles of water, he’d wandered off to check out some kitschy New York souvenirs. Apparently, Jannie had done some extra shopping.
He frowned. “No.”
“Yes.”
He started to shake his head and made a move, but felt her hands grip his ass, then slide to his inner thighs and up again. “Relax.”
Instead, Nick tensed.
That was when she pinched him so hard that he gasped.
She pinched his other cheek. “Louder.”
A guttural cry escaped him. He no longer had control over his voice—or anything else, it seemed.
She hummed deep in her throat, making him relax a little, and he immediately felt her caress right there, between his cheeks.
A pause.
Cool liquid dripped onto his backside, sliding down to his balls. Then her slippery fingertips glided back and forth, barely touching him. He wheezed with the effort to breathe as pleasure washed over him, her thumb inching toward …
No. He couldn’t let …
“Relax,” she repeated.
Her voice was soft yet brooked no protest. Her thumb was doing things to him, things he had never let anyone do.
No one had gone there. Ever. That was a part of him he’d always made clear would not be accessed.
God help him; it felt incredible.
Even the extra lube she dripped on him felt good. With her other hand, she reached between his legs and gripped him, while her thumb relentlessly circled.
Seeking entrance.
Jesus.
He needed … wanted … his head dipped downward.
Crazed with arousal, Nick backed into her and heard her hum of satisfaction as he exhaled raggedly, slowly but surely impaling himself on her thumb. She gently wiggled it.
Nick struggled for air. He couldn’t think, lost in an uncharted space where nothing mattered, and nothing existed except Jannie and what she was doing to his body. A loud, long sound escaped from his primal core, and then Nick stopped caring what this was as his very essence plunged into a sensual zone he’d never known.
She moved her thumb a certain way, and he cried out again as bolts of white lightning shot through him, and his vision went blurry.
“See?” She chuckled darkly. “Men do moan.”
He clenched his jaw. “They groan,” he gritted out.
“Yeah, uh-huh. Groan some more.”
She was everywhere now, tugging on his shaft, then teasing his balls, and, yes, massaging as she invaded his ass, and he thrust into her hand, harder, faster, reaching for what was barreling toward him like a fucking high-speed train, though part of him sensed it may be beyond his ability to endure it.
It gathered deep and low, closer, closer, until …
Her thumb slipped out. Part of him felt relieved; the other part despaired with unfulfilled need.
