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Her shoulders were the first to lock up. Her fingers tightened in his hair until she was sure that she couldn't have tightened them any more. Her toes curled up, and then the big muscles started to get involved, the long ones along her back, her abs, her thighs, until she was as tight as a drum from her forehead down to her toenails, and then… everything started to relax.
Through it all, his mouth never stopped moving, never stopped exploring, never stopped sending delicious electric signals coursing through her. Misty rolled over, off of him. Her breath came hard and fast, and kept catching in her throat, but she couldn't have asked for anything more. At least, she hoped she couldn't have–what she'd been given had felt hard enough to control already, and she wasn't sure what would put her any further over the edge.
She heard the zipper of Grant's trousers working, but it didn't mean anything to her exhausted, sex-addled mind. It didn't mean anything until he was the one hovering over her, and something hard and thick pressed against her opening.
Then it meant a lot. "I just came," she breathed.
"You've had a minute," Grant said. "Now you're going to cum again."
Misty didn't have time for a witty reply; he was already moving to take her knees in his arms, pulling himself tight against her opening and forcing the two of them together in delicious agony.
"You're a bastard, you know that?"
"Is that a problem?"
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