He worked that spot with steady, focused pressure while his mouth stayed on my clit — sucking and lapping and doing something with his tongue that I had no frame of reference for but would spend considerable time thinking about afterward — and I felt myself climbing with a speed that was almost embarrassing.

Then a second finger joined the first.

The stretch was sharper and I gasped at it and his eyes flicked up to mine immediately.

"Still good?"

"Still good —" I rocked my hips toward his hand. "So good —"

He scissored his fingers carefully, slowly stretching, making room, his mouth never pausing in its work. He...