Page 334 of End Game

Her breath catches.

There she fucking is.

The confidence that had started creeping into her movements gets stronger and less experimental.

She braces one hand against my chest and uses the leverage to grind harder.

Every instinct tells me to grip her thighs. Help her get off. Move her. Do something.

I pull against the belt instead.

Her eyes flick upward toward my hands.

Then back to me.

Her mouth parts.

“Oh.”

“What?”

“You really can't touch me.”

I laugh, although it comes out considerably rougher than intended. “That was the general concept.”

Something in her expression changes again.

Fuck.

She likes this. Moments later she starts moving faster.

I watch her face.

The flush spreading down her chest.

The way her lips part every time she catches exactly the right pressure.

The small sounds she isn't trying to hide anymore.

She is fucking beautiful like this.

Not reacting to what somebody else decides to give her.

Taking.

My whole body tightens. “Come on, baby.”

Her gaze finds mine.

“You look so fucking good like this.”

That does it.

Her movements turn rougher, less controlled.

I can tell she's close. I've known her body too long.

“That's it.”