Every other stroke draws a soft moan from her throat. He's hitting that sweet spot, and she can feel it sending pulses up her spine. Her fingertips dig into his arms and her heels dig into his calves, holding on as his pace quickens just a bit.
His name is on her lips, a soft plea mingled with incoherent Gaelic.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2010-01-01 06:56 pm (UTC)His name is on her lips, a soft plea mingled with incoherent Gaelic.