Sloane’s POV
I ride him like something in me has come unhinged and I don’t want to find the screw.
My hands are flat on his broad chest, my hips rolling in deep, grinding circles that drag his c**k against every sensitive inch of my walls.
His c*m from earlier is making everything slick, and the wet sound of me riding him fills the dark bedroom. He grips my neck with one hand, my tit with the other, squeezing hard enough that the pressure radiates down to my c**t.
“Sloane,” he grunts, his hips thrusting up to meet me on every downstroke, his c**k driving deeper from this angle than any position before. “You ride c**k like you’ve been practicing for this your whole life.”
“I have been,” I moan, bouncing harder, my thighs burning and my p***y clenching around him with every roll. “Every
