He takes the rose from my shaking fingers.I whimper at the loss, a sound so desperate it humiliates me, but he only turns the intensity up one notch and presses it back against my clit, holding it there with his big, calloused hand. The increased suction makes my spine curve off the bed.His other hand slides between my thighs. Two thick fingers drag through my soaked folds, spreading my wetness from my entrance up to my clit and back down, slow and exploratory, like he’s mapping me.“Jesus Christ,” he growls. “You’re absolutely dripping. This poor little cunt hasn’t been touched properly in months, has it?”“Jax, we can’t—”“Answer me.”“No,” I choke. “He doesn’t, he never—”“Never makes you come.” It’s not a question. He pushes two fingers inside me, slow, thick, stretching me open, and curls them against my front wall while the rose keeps sucking my clit. The dual sensation is so overwhelming that my vision blurs.“Oh fuck, Jax—”“There it is.” He pumps his fingers deeper, scissor
Read more