“Jesus, Elise.” He pushes deep and holds, muscles jumping, and I can tell he’s taking a break to prevent himself from finishing too early. “I was going to take this slow, but you’ve got a deep little clench that I like too fucking much. It’s killing me.” He uses the sleeve of his shirt to swipe sweat from his forehead. “And you want this. Look at you. You need it mean, huh?”
