Emma’s POV
Austin bends his head and explores my slickness, which elicits my strained gasp. A gasp of dismay, or excitement?
"Emma, don't worry. Trust me."
Trust me.
The two words are more reassuring than anything I have heard in the last few days. Taking a deep breath first, I do what Austin asks and stop writing.
It feels incredibly good.
He slides his warm palm lower and glides along the soft skin on the side of my thigh.
As soon as I stop fretting about what's happening and feel the sensation, I gasp.
It feels like heaven.
The warm, wet tickle inside my p***y wants to pulse out of me. As the tips of his fingers part the dripping folds of my quim, simultaneously flicking, stroking, and massaging my folds, I make a small, choking sound.
As our eyes meet, I realize Austin smiles
