A shudder rolls through me, and I whimper, barely able to find my voice. “Mmm… the wettest I’ve ever been.” I bury my face in his neck, biting back another moan. “I guess you mastered how I like to be touched.”

A low, satisfied growl vibrates against my skin, his grip tightening like he wants to devour me whole. “Well, I have a good teacher,” He murmurs, slowly sliding his hand downward, teasing the edges of my resolve.

“But I need you to help me excel,” he challenges, breath hot against my lips. He lifts my chin, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Show me how you like to be touched.”

Knowing what he wants, knowing what I want so damn badly, he slowly peels my hand from around his shoulder. His lips brush over the top of my hand, soft and reverent, before he guides it downward, slipping past the waistband of my pajama pants, then lower, into my panties.

The moment my fingers meet my slick heat, I gasp, my entire body shuddering. My eyes fly to his, where his smirk is as deep as the bulge pressing against the cradle of my thighs, thick and unrelenting. His expression is pure hunger, pure satisfaction at the sight of me unraveling for him.

My fingers slide through my wet, tight entrance, and his hands travel upward, tracing the curves of my body, teasing my nipples, flicking and rolling them between his fingers. Every single touch pushes me further, keeping me suspended in this unbearable, beautiful torment.

He leans back into his couch, shifting his hips just enough for me to see, to feel the promise of what he could give me. Of how good he could make me feel. Of how full he’d make me feel.

Vic’s voice is rough, commanding, and dripping with sin. “That’s right, Kerry. Close your eyes and imagine me instead. Go as deep as you can. Show me. Show me what you want. Show me what you need.”

And I do. I surrender. I let myself get lost in it—the weight of his gaze, the skill of his hands touching my body, the steady rhythm of my own fingers moving intensely in and out, matching the trembling of my body. Every breath is heavy, and every sound I make grows softer and needier until I’m teetering right on the edge.

“I can watch your beautiful face come undone every day. Go deeper, baby. Go deeper for me. Give me something to dream about tonight.”

His voice inches me closer and closer to the edge until, finally, the pressure builds, tightens, and twists so violently that I can’t hold it back.

“Vic… I’m about to come.” I whimper, voice weak, sensual, and wrecked.