Phil’s POV
It’s real.
The way he bit his lip, tugging at my hair, nipping at my bottom lip—smooth tanned skin lined with muscle, the flex of his bicep under my hands, his abdomen, and his back—“Tss, I’m—“ he licked his lips, pulling back a little, his hands gripping my thighs, hips pumping forward faster, more desperate—“I’m coming.”
“Inside,” I breathed, spreading my legs further, hands slipping over his abs.
Rock hard, flexing under my fingertips.
It’s not a dream.
His smile, his hum, the feeling of his nails biting into my skin—he jostled the bed a bit, lifting my ass into the air, hitting deeper, rougher. My back arched upward, hands gripping his wrists, taking it. Him. All of him. My eyes rolled backwards for a second but I forced my eyes back to him,
