I slip my hand between us. The dual sensation—his thick length stretching me open, my own fingers circling my most sensitive spot—shoves me toward the edge.
“That’s it,” he encourages, thrusting up to meet my downward movements. “Take what you need from me.”
“I’m c-coming,” I cry out as the pleasure peaks. “Vince!”
My inner walls clench around him as the orgasm rips through me, more intense than the first, but somehow softer, more expansive, floatier. My entire body shudders with the force of it.
Before I’ve even finished coming, Vince flips our positions again and moves me around. Now, I’m on my hands and knees, and he’s behind me, his chest pressed against my back as he enters me in one swift stroke.
I can feel the gears shifting. Love is still there, the undercurrent to all of this
