The warning would carry more weight if she were not pushing herself into my hand.
“Changed your mind?”
“Not remotely,” she
I guide myself into her.
Her breath catches.
I stop once I am fully inside.
“All right?”
“Yes.”
She draws in a slow breath.
“Move.”
I pull back and thrust into her again.
The angle takes me deeper, and Mandy’s hands tighten against the mattress.
“Like that?”
“Do it again.”
I do.
Then again.
The bed shifts beneath us as I settle into a rhythm, Mandy pushing back to meet me.
Her hair falls across her face.
I gather it in one hand and hold it away.
“Still assessing?”
“Your technique requires further observation.”
“Any early findings?”
“You remain irritating.”
I change the angle and thrust harder.
Her answer turns into a cry.
“Sorry. Didn’t catch that.”
“Smug bastard.”
“That sounded almost affectionate.”
She reaches back and catches my thigh.
“Less commentary.”