He feigns innocence. “What happened between us yesterday?”
“Stop it,” I say, trying to move around him.
He grabs my arm and pulls me back to my previous position. Then he puts himself me and the towel he’s casually discarded on the floor.
“I told you: I like you wet.”
As he says it, he reaches down between my legs and pushes two fingers against the folds of my p***y. He does it so fast and so smoothly that he’s already inside me before I have the chance to move away.
I gasp as he forces me against the shower cubicle glass and passes a soft thumb over my c**t.
“Hmm,” he growls in my ear. “Apparently, you don’t need any help getting there, kiska.”
I gnash my teeth at him, but the effect is lost because at the same time, I involuntarily grind my p***y down against his fingers. His self
