“Still wet for me,” he murmurs, his voice dark and satisfied. “Greedy little thing.”
Two of his fingers slide inside me, slowly and deliberately, curling in a way that makes me bury my face in the pillow with a soft moan. He presses his palm harder, the obscene sound of my own arousal filling the space between us.
“You hear that?” His words are a low growl against my skin. “That’s the sound of a good mate who knows her place.”
I can’t think, can’t speak—I can only move, rocking helplessly against his hand. The sensation builds until I’m shaking, and then he pulls his fingers free, replacing them with the thick head of his c**k.
When he pushes inside, it’s agonizingly slow, stretching me until I feel every inch of him. My nails claw at the sheets as he grinds deep, rolling his hips, ref
