He releases her breast finally, needing to take a deep breath to calm himself. For a moment, he just looks at her chest and takes in the picture - her, rubbing herself on his hand, shirt open and half exposed, wet for him in his lap...God. It's a pretty sight. A surge of pleasure hits him and he's glad when her hand on him stops; he pushes it away because he can wait.

What can't wait is his need to feel her. He switches the pressure to his thumb so his fingers can stroke her hole for a minute, his lips finding her throat. And then he's groaning against her neck, pressing those two fingers firmly inside her, letting that wet heat envelop them entirely.

Christ, she wasn't lying. That's tight.