His lips release me with a wet pop, and his mouth trails lower until his breath ghosts hot across my stomach. Every muscle in my body pulls taut, anticipation winding up tightly inside me. His hand slides down the curve of my waist, fingers dragging deliberately over my hip until they find the drenched lace between my thighs.
“f**k,” he breathes, pressing his palm against me, feeling the soaked fabric. “You’re dripping. Can you hear that, Selene? Can you feel how wet you are for me?”
I shudder, my legs spreading despite my will, desperate for more friction. The heat pooling there is unbearable, throbbing and insistent, and when his fingers push my panties aside and slide through my slick folds, an obscene squelch fills the air.
A choked cry rips from me, my pelvis jerking against his ha
