SWEET SPOT
I could feel how wet I was, the slickness coating the insides of my thighs.
I reached up and wrapped both hands around the base of him, stroking what my mouth couldn’t take. My tongue worked constantly, pressing and swirling whenever he pulled back, chasing the taste of him. Spit was running down my wrists now, messy and shameless, dripping onto the sheets between his legs.
Cedric’s breathing grew heavier. His hips started to lose a little of that perfect control. The thrusts became shorter, deeper, and more urgent. The hand in my hair tightened just a fraction more, holding me exactly where he wanted me.