"What are you thinking about?" he asked. "Nothing," I lied, and he pinched my clit though my thin shorts. My back arched, the pleasurable pain caused me to fade in and out. "Kova…" I whimpered. "Tell me what you are thinking or I stop." He rubbed harder and faster. “Tell me,” he demanded, and paused. I whimpered, actually whimpered at the break, and then gave him the truth. "I was thinking about how I wish there was nothing between us, no clothes or anything, so I can feel your fingers…" I swallowed, "pushing into me." He growled. "And?" I eased into it, his thumbing sliding dangerously low to
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