“Wait, wait, wait.” He immediately lifts his head, though he doesn’t remove his fingers, the dirty boy. “Did I hurt you?” “No, nothing like that.” I prop myself up on my elbows and try to think through the pleasure of that pulsing thing he’s doing with his fingers against my G-spot. “I need…” God, that feels good. It would be the easiest thing in the world to let him make me come like this. But I know how to read a man, and this one will make me orgasm hard enough to see stars, then he’ll fix my dress, call me a car, and send me home. He’s got that kind of selfless martyrdom written all over
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