My Next Door Love
A claiming touch.
Then Hannah’s other hand moved. Two fingers pressed against Grace’s entrance, not entering, just resting there, a promise. Grace pushed her hips forward, desperate for more, but Hannah held back.
“Look at me,” Hannah said.
Grace looked down. The image was obscenely beautiful—Hannah kneeling, water streaming over her, mouth glistening, two fingers poised at Grace’s core. Their eyes locked.
“I love you,” Hannah said.
Then she pushed inside.
Her fingers curled forward, finding that spot with unerring accuracy. Her mouth returned to Grace’s clit, sucking in rhythm with the thrusts. It was slow, deliberate, a study in controlled intensity. No frantic pounding. No brutal pace. Ju