The warm flesh of his shaft grinds against my most sensitive parts as he guides it. I clench my thighs tighter against him and shiver at the low groan that escapes his lips.
His chest is flush against my bare back, and I can feel his muscles shift even through his shirt. It feels unfair that I'm the only one naked. I don't do anything about it though, stuck in a place where confusion and pleasure lace together.
"You're wet," His hot breath fans against my damp skin. His lips graze against my pulse, forming goosebumps, "Do you know that?" He reaches around me and grabs my breast. He squeezes hard, turning my flesh red.
I whimper, head falling back. I worry about getting his shirt wet, a fleeting thought that passes my brain but is lost when he pinches my n****e. The sting of pain travel
