The hair on his forearm tickled the side of her breast as he moved his top fist up and down in a rhythmic motion that twisted as he reached the top. Watching him felt wrong. But wrong, she discovered, could be very exciting.
Not to mention informative.
Again, she glanced back over her shoulder. He’d sucked and bit in his lower lip. The rest of his face was plastered with longing and need. That’s how she wanted to make him look—as if he would grant her any boon, so long as she brought him to release.
She returned her attention to his technique.
“Does that make you feel the way you made me feel when you touched me?” she asked.
“Uh huh,” was his guttural reply.
“What part feels the best?”
“Every part feels good. But the most potent sensation is here”—he moved his fingers over the underside of the base—“and here.” He drew his hand back to the top.
His breath deepened and the pace quickened. She hadn’t expected he’d be able to finish so quickly.
She sat up. “Stop.”
“Pestilent woman.” He ignored her and continued caressing. “You’ve kept me in eager suspense for some time. The least you could do is—”
“I said”—she lowered her voice and placed her hand around his—“stop.”
He stilled.
“I’m finished observing.”
