Grinding On His Dick
Kai’s forehead rested against mine, his breath warm and ragged across my lips. The taste of him still lingered on my tongue — beer and something darker, something that made my stomach tighten with want. My heart was hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat, in my wrists, between my legs. I was still half in his lap, one of my thighs draped over his, the heat of his erection pressing insistently against me through his jeans. My thin sleep shorts offered almost no barrier. I could feel every inch of him, thick and hard, and it made my p***y clench with a fresh wave of wetness.
I should have pulled away. I should have laughed it off and told him we were both being stupid. But instead I stayed there, breathing him in, my fingers curled into the front of his t-shirt
