Of course, as soon as he thought that, she grabbed his hair and dragged him down, pressing all her soft, lush curves against his body.
Her skin was hot and damp from the exertion of her orgasm. Her vagina was wet and open, ready for him, begging for him as she spread her legs and reached down to grasp his erection. In his ear, she whispered, 'Hard, please.'"
Two fingers worked into her, and her eyes rolled back into her head. He began a steady rhythm as his tongue flickered over her, and she couldn't prevent her hips from rising to meet his thrusts.
Oh God, she was riding his hand, smothering his face with her sex. That had to be bad. She told herself to stop. She couldn't.
Somehow, she found her hands tangled in his short hair. Her body was coiled tighter, grasping at his fingers, so wet now she could hear the slippery sounds every time he drove back into her.
