He didn’t pull out.
Not even a centimeter.
Still buried deep inside me, he shifted his weight, grabbed my hair, and yanked my head down toward his c**k.
My breath hitched, heart pounding as I followed, trembling lips parting to welcome him.
Silk and sweat mixed on my tongue—the taste of me, soaked and raw, clinging to him like a second skin.
He was still hard. Thick. Pulsing, heavy with need.
I swirled my tongue around the head, slow and deliberate, teasing the slit slick with my arousal.
His hand tangled in my hair, pulling, guiding.
“You’re a filthy girl,” he growled. “You love being used.”
I moaned around him.
His hips jerked forward, pushing past my lips, filling my mouth deeper than I thought possible.
I gagged, eyes watering, but kept going, desperate to please, to keep hi
