He doesn’t let me finish the sentence. Two thick fingers push inside me, curling slowly and searching. When they find that spongy spot I didn’t even know still worked, my back arches clean off the bed.
“Right there?” he murmurs against my p***y.
“Yes…. f**k…. yes, right there!”
He works me open with those fingers, slow and deep, while his tongue keeps lazy circles on my c**t. The pressure builds differently than anything I’ve felt in years thick, heavy, rolling through my whole pelvis instead of just a quick spark.
My moans turn into desperate little cries. My thighs start to tremble.
Henry still didn’t speed up. He keeps the same torturous rhythm until my orgasm sneaks up on me like a wave I didn’t see coming. It crashes slow and deep, rolling through me in long, shuddering
