He broke the kiss just long enough to slide her jeans down her leg. The flimsy lace he let it stay on with the intention of letting her feel the friction of its texture against her sensitive bud.
She liked it so much, evident by the way her hips shifted, the way she was panting. But still… she was not screaming. One finger slipped into her while he continued to rub her through the lace. She was unbelievably so tight he wondered if they’d fit. At least he didn’t encounter any barrier. That brought him some relief, eased the pressure on his shoulders. But then a nagging feeling pricked his mind to investigate which bustard had the privilege of introducing her to the pleasures of the flesh.
Not to worry. He’d blot out the memories of that first and any others after that.
She was effectivel
