Wren
For a moment we’re both speechless, frozen in time, almost like if we move or even breathe, the moment will be gone from us.
And so we stop and stare, eyes locked in each other, lost.
Ezra releases my wrist, and I gulp.
“You’re hard,” I say stupidly, pulse frantic.
He laughs softly. “I am. It’s my default around you.”
I glance down at my hand still on his length, his pants straining. I run my fingers over him and squeeze.
“Birdie,” he warns, voice raspy. His forehead falls on mine, breath leaving him in barely controlled gasps.
My n*****s harden painfully, my shorts sticking to the dampness in my core.
I lick my lips and give another firm stroke.
He wraps his fingers gently around my throat, and gives a little squeeze, dragging my eyes to his. “You’re playing with fire, li
