The Fine Print of Falling
Then his mouth was on me, and I stopped being able to form coherent thoughts.
His tongue moved with devastating precision, circling and stroking and sucking until my legs were shaking. One hand gripped his hair, the other pressed against the window for balance.
The city stretched out below us, millions of lights, millions of people, and all I could focus on was the pleasure building higher and higher.
“Don’t stop,” I begged. “Please don’t stop.”
He added his fingers, sliding inside while his mouth continued its assault on my senses. The dual sensation pushed me over the edge. I came with a cry that echoed through the penthouse, my whole body shuddering.
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