Jenn’s POV His fingers pressed deeper into my folds, and my hips rolled against his hand. I was so close already, the tension building low in my belly, but I didn’t want to come like this. Not yet. I pushed his hand away, and he made a sound of protest that turned into a groan when I reached for the ties of his pants. I freed him, wrapped my hand around his shaft, and felt him pulse against my palm. He was thick, heavy, and I ached to have him inside me. “Look at me,” I said. His eyes snapped to mine and I held his gaze as I lifted myself, positioned him, and sank down. He filled me in one slow, impossibly deep stroke. I cried out, my head falling back, my fingers dug into his shoulders. He was watching me with that hungry, desperate look, his hands gripping my hips so hard I knew there would be bruises tomorrow. I wanted them. I started to move, slow at first, riding him in long, rolling waves. His hands slid up my sides, pushing my dress up, over my breasts, until I pulled it
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