I ached for him.
I hadn't ever ached for a man that way. As if this thing inside me was a creature with its own appetites and it insisted—demanded to be fed.
David groaned as he slowly but surely rolled his hips, pulling me against him, until we found a rhythm, mimicking what we both actually wanted to be doing. Until I was gasping.
I didn't want to lose that delicious pressure, but I also yearned to be closer to him, to be skin to skin. But he was covered in clothing—literally throat to toe.
Instinctively I found the knot at his neck, but I knew nothing about these strange ties they called "cravats" so as soon as I had loosened it enough to slide my fingers under it and find the buttons of his shirt, I did.
