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Fuck.
He's big.
And it's been a long time.
He stares down at me as he tears the wrapper and slides the condom over his cock. "Turn over."
I stare back at him.
"Please." His voice is heavy. Needy. Like he's not sure if he wants to tease me or tease me.
I push myself up.
He brings his hands to my legs. Helps me flip over. Onto my hands and knees.
I plant my feet on the floor. Arch my back to bring my ass into the air.
"Fuck, Iris." He drags his fingertips over my sex. "You always get this wet?"
My response is a groan.
God, that's hot. How can five words be that hot?
He teases me with one finger.
Then two.
I clutch at the sheets to stay upright.
That feels good.
Too good.
I need him inside me. His fingers. His cock. His everything.
I need it too much. The way I used to need—
"You like it rough?" He slides one finger inside me. Then two.
Fuck.
My eyelids flutter together.
I rock my hips. Rise onto my tiptoes.
How do I like it?
I don't even know.
I always went along with whatever Ross wanted.
He pushes his fingers inside me. It's slow. Deep. Intense.
"Slow at first." I swallow hard. How does he talk about this stuff so casually?
I mean, I appreciate his excellent communication skills.
And how much his dirty talk sets me on fire.
