The fact that he's helpless under me only makes me grow wetter.
I moan out in pleasure, keeping the pressure on his neck while I f**k him hard.
Every bounce of my hips hits that delicious spot inside me, building the pressure until I'm nearly gasping, my nails biting into his shoulders through his T-shirt.
His groans are so nice to hear, but they start to get a bit loud, so I slap my hand over his mouth.
"Come for me, Zayn," I order, squeezing his throat again. "Right f*****g now."
He comes with a growl that I smother against my palm as he spills deep inside me.
I don't stop riding him; I grind down harder, pursuing my own orgasm, and it follows seconds later.
Once it's over, I fall forward into his chest, both of us sweating and breathing hard like we just ran a 400m race.
Zayn's
