“Lukas—” I gasp, tugging at his hair in a way that has to hurt, though he shows no sign of it. “Lukas, I’m gonna—”
He responds by sucking my c**t into his mouth and sliding two fingers inside me.
One second, I’m drooling on my pillow, and the next, I’m arching off the bed with a broken cry, clenching around his fingers while I come so hard that I… drool on my pillow. My thighs try to close around his head, but he bumps them apart and keeps going, drawing out every last tremor until I’m a quivering, gasping mess.
When my vision finally clears, he’s propped up on his elbows between my thighs, watching me with a proud smirk.
His beard is wet. “Good morning,” he says.
I stare at him. My brain is offline, so the best I can do by way of a response is: “You— That’s— You can’t just—”
“Can’
