He smiled, slow and wicked, and added a third finger. The stretch burned in the best way. His thumb pressed harder on my c**t, rubbing tight circles, and the pressure inside me coiled tighter and tighter until it snapped.
I came with a broken cry, cunt spasming hard around his fingers, slick pouring out over his hand. He worked me through it, relentless, until I was twitching and gasping and trying to twist away from the oversensitivity. Only then did he ease his fingers out. They were shiny to the knuckles. He brought them to my mouth.
“Clean them.”
I opened. The taste of myself hit my tongue—salty, musky, filthy. I sucked his fingers clean while he watched, eyes heavy-lidded, chest rising and falling hard.
When he pulled them free he finally kissed me. It wasn’t soft. It was hungry,
