She hooked one leg over mine, and I rocked my hips into her pelvis to let her feel what she’d done to me. Lacey groaned. “I take it you liked the massage.”
“What gave me away?” I asked, breathing hard against her neck.
“A certain wayward southern appendage.” She ground into me again, her hips moving against mine.
I almost chuckled. Almost called her out for being too prissy to say the word cock . . . until her hand slid down to my jeans to unbutton me.
“Maybe he needs some attention too,” she rasped against my throat.
I hadn’t come here for this and wouldn’t have pressed her, but I also wasn’t going to turn her away. We would take things at whatever pace she wanted.
Tugging down the zipper to her shorts, I was desperate to touch her and bring her pleasure. I pushed my hand inside her shorts, fumbling when she reached down to grip my denim-covered erection. Christ.
My fingers soon found what they were looking for. She gasped as I rubbed in slow circles through her panties. Even with the cotton barrier, I could feel the firm bud of her swollen clit. I sucked in a breath when she tightened her fist, kneading my hard cock.
“Together,” was all she said. But I understood. Only a little impatiently, I waited until she had unzipped my jeans before slipping my fingers under her panties.
I gave a soft groan at the feel of her hot, slick folds. “God, baby, you’re so wet already.”
“All for you,” she murmured huskily. “Touch me, please.”I obeyed in a heartbeat, echoing her moan when she pulled my cock free and started stroking up and down with whisper-soft strokes.
She's a sassy, yet polite Midwestern girl with a deep love of books, and a slight addiction to lipgloss. She lives in Minneapolis with her adorable husband and two baby sons, and enjoys hiking, being active, and reading.
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