I whimpered, hips rocking back against his hand. Two thick fingers slid through my folds, parting me, then pushed inside — slow, deep, curling immediately against that spot that made my back arch. The stretch burned sweetly. The wet sound of his fingers moving in my pussy filled the quiet room. I moaned softly, face buried in his neck, breathing in his scent.

He pumped his fingers slowly at first, savoring every slick slide, every clench of my walls around him. Then faster, deeper, his thumb finding my clit and rubbing in firm circles. Pleasure coiled tight in my belly, hot and urgent.

“Damn it, Ana,” he whispered against my...