Something about that is sort of hot—like we’re doing something wrong. And all that thought does is get me hotter, wetter, and before I know it, I’m humping his hand, my body so desperate for what it needs that it’s acting on its own.

“That’s right,” he rasps, his breath quickening. “Take it. Take what you want.” I can only groan in agreement and frustration combined. I just want to come. That’s all I want. I want to feel good.

“Come for me,” he whispers in my ear. “Come for me like I know you can. Let yourself go.”

“So close…” I breathe, rising higher and higher, the tension building until I want to scream again. “So close!”

“Give it to me. Give me your orgasm, Leni.” And then he presses his fingers down hard, tight against my clit, and I see stars. The whole world explodes in a shimmering cloud of light. All I can do is cling to him or else risk shattering into a million pieces.

But he holds me together, helping me through it, and when I come back to my senses, he’s kissing me again, my forehead and cheeks and throat. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” he grunts, driving himself against my hip. He’s so hard; his precum soaks through his shorts, dampening my palm when I touch him again. “Oh fuck, I need to be inside you. I need it.”

I don’t say a word, only working my thong down and tossing it aside before welcoming him between my spread thighs. I need this, too. “I want you inside me,” I whisper, my voice shaky with nerves.

He lowers himself on top of me, stretching out, and I strain upward to catch his mouth before he slides in, filling me up all at once. Our mingled groans are lost between us, and he begins to move, taking me with slow, deep strokes.

I close my eyes and focus on the feeling. The growing heat, the friction between our bodies. The way his heart races against my chest, against my lips when I run them over his throat. It’s pounding the way mine is.

“Yes,” I whisper, holding him tight with my legs and pulling him deeper. I need him to know I want this. That he was right, that this is how it needs to be. “Yes, more.”

And he gives it to me, driving himself deeper, harder. Maybe I never finished coming in the first place, or perhaps it’s happening all over again. All I know is I feel it building almost on top of the last one, stronger this time. Every time our bodies meet and he rubs against me, he pushes me a little closer to the edge.

“Getting tighter,” he pants close to my ear before lifting his head. “So tight.”

“Getting close…”

“You’re going to come for me again?”