“Mm, atta girl. Feel that?” His grip tightens on my thigh as he drives deeper, the mattress creaking under the new rhythm. “That’s me right where I wanna be.”
I whimper as his hips roll again, slowing down enough to feel every inch of him.
“So fucking wet for me,” he mutters. “Christ, Pen. You keep squeezing me like that, and I’m not gonna last.”
“Don’t you dare,” I choke out, reaching back blindly until my nails catch against his hip. “Make me come first.”
A low laugh vibrates through him and into my back.
“Bossy little thing.” His fingers circle my clit once, deliberately light and teasing. “Alright, but you’re gonna count for me first.”
I barely manage a breath. “What?”
“Ten seconds.” Another deep thrust that punches a moan from me. “Think you can do that for me, Pretty Penny?”
The nickname hits low in my stomach, warm and dangerous and unfair.
“Evan—”
“Count.”
His mouth closes around the spot beneath my ear as his fingers start moving again, slow circles that make my thighs shake instantly.
“One…” I gasp.
“That’s it.”
“Two…”
His hips snap deeper, and I break off with a helpless sound.
“You already struggling?” Amusement roughens his voice. “C’mon, baby. We’re only at two.”
I can hear the smile in it, can feel it against my skin, and it makes everything hot and worse and better all at once.
“Three… four…”
“That’s my girl.” His hand slides higher on my thigh, spreading me wider for him. “Taking me so fucking well.”
Pleasure pulls tight and sharp in my belly, my body already trembling around him and ready to break.
“Five—fuck—”
“Yeah, fuck.” He groans softly when I clamp down on him again. “You’re gonna kill me, Pen.”
“Si…” The number dissolves into a moan as he grinds deeper, the wet drag of it obscene in the quiet room.
“You hear that?” he asks. “Hear how needy this pussy gets for me?”
My face burns, and I bury it harder into the pillow so my moans don’t echo through the whole damn town.
“Seven—”
His fingers press harder against my clit, and I jolt.
“Oh my god—eight—”
“Almost there.” His breathing’s heavier now, too, the restraint of him fraying around the edges. “Don’t you dare come early, Pen.”
