He flicked it—light at first, then harder. Each snap sent lightning through me. My hips bucked, chasing his hand. I was dripping down my ass now, slick pooling under me on the mat. He kept twisting those two fingers, scissoring them, stretching me wider while his thumb worked my clit in tight, relentless circles.

I tried to stay quiet. I really did. But every time he hit my G-spot my mouth fell open and a loud, broken moan spilled out. My hands grabbed at the mat, nails digging in. My tits bounced with every desperate roll of my hips.

Then he pulled his fingers out.

I whined—actually whined—at the loss....