Florence pressed her thighs together and stared as the woman began quaking, the shouts clear through the wall. The woman trembled until she nearly fell over, but the man steadied her as he moved a hand to his trouser fastenings. When she recovered, she helped to free his erection. The flesh was hard and thick, capped with a round head. Florence had seen a penis, of course, but not for any length of time. With Chester, the unveiling had happened mere seconds before the instrument was put to use. There hadn’t been a pause for her to take it all in.

Now, she took it all in. What a marvel this piece of anatomy was, so tall and proud. Designed to give and receive pleasure. The man stroked it, using his hand along the shaft as the woman shimmied down to align their hips. She lined up and he angled himself toward her core, preparing to penetrate her.

Florence nearly crumbled. Oh, my God. How will I possibly last?

“Had enough? Shall I close the partition?”

“No,” she wheezed and he gave a soft chuckle. She didn’t care. Let him laugh at her, if he chose. This was too . . . educational to resist.

The man’s cock slowly disappeared inside the woman’s body—and Florence heard herself whimper. It was faint, a sound of pent-up frustration and hunger, but no chance Clay missed it. And she was beyond caring. The scene was the most arousing thing she’d ever watched. Her body was tight, on edge. If she rubbed her thighs together, she might possibly combust. If only Clay weren’t here . . .

“Would you touch yourself right now if you were alone?” he whispered.

Heat burned her skin. Was he reading her mind? Or was her desire so obvious?

She couldn’t answer, partially due to embarrassment. But more likely because her brain was too busy processing what she was witnessing.

The woman rose up on her knees then lowered once again. The man reached to toy with her nipples, pinching and petting them. Their eyes were wild, movements frantic, like mindless creatures of pleasure. Two nymphs in a secluded wood working toward mutual satisfaction. The woman was bold. Confident. She steadily rolled her hips to work the man’s cock in and out of her body.

“So would you?” the devil asked over her shoulder. “Would you lift your skirts and make yourself come?”

“I . . .” Florence cleared her throat. “Stop trying to embarrass me.”

“I don’t want to embarrass you. I want to know you. It’s obvious this arouses you. And, as you said yourself, you’re no innocent.”

“Would you?” she threw back at him.

“Yes, were I alone I might pull my cock out and tug on it until I spent.”

Her lungs froze, unable to function at his confession. God above, why would he say such things to her?