I couldn’t speak, couldn’t tell him anything. Instead, my hands weaved into his hair again, and I tightened my grip any time he paid attention to my clit.

“Mmmm,” he hummed against it, and I shook around him, my orgasm building more and more with every lash of his tongue. “What about this?”

He shifted his weight onto one elbow, the free hand trailing up the length of my stomach to rest between my breasts. His palm splayed my ribcage, and then he roughly shoved one cup of my bra up over my breast and palmed it.

I arched into the brute touch, gasping for air as that sensation rivaled with the wet heat of his tongue between my thighs. He massaged my breast as he licked me, then sucked my clit while his fingers tightened over my nipple and gave a gentle, twisting tug.

“Clay!”

I cried out his name and I didn’t know why. I didn’t know what I wanted. I didn’t know if I was desperate for him to stop or if I wanted even more. I squirmed beneath him as he held my thigh as steady as he could, continuing his assault on my pussy as his hand worked one breast and then the other.

The combination had me teetering on the edge of ecstasy, but something was missing.

“More,” I panted. “I need… more.”

“More,” Clay repeated, and his hand trailed down from my breast to between my thighs. He held my stare as that hand disappeared beneath me, and then I felt a fingertip pressing against my entrance. “Here?”

“Yes,” I begged.

With a devilish smirk, Clay slipped that finger inside me, all at once and to the very center of me. I cried out, but in the next instant, his mouth was on my clit again, sucking and licking as his finger withdrew and plunged inside me again.

He angled his wrist so he could curl that finger inside me, and as I shook and writhed beneath him, he added another.

It was everything I wanted. I was full, his fingers stretching me as his tongue pressed just the right amount of pressure where I needed it. That along with the sight of him burying his face between my thighs was too much to stay composed under.

“Rub your tits for me, Kitten,” he breathed against my skin, the breath cool where I was wet and hot. “Stroke yourself with me. Come for me.”

I had no choice but to obey, and when my fingers plucked at my pebbled nipple, I whimpered and moaned and squirmed and bucked my hips against his mouth. He met my eager request for more with an increased pressure, the sounds of him sucking and finger-fucking me the last thing that drove me over the edge.