Soft.
Slick.
So fucking ready for me.
I groaned, dragging my fingers through the heat of her folds, gathering her arousal and circling her clit, slow, deliberate.
She whimpered.
My gorgeous, wet, fucking perfect woman.
My breath was hot against her skin. “Look how you open for me.”
She whimpered.
Her thighs shook as my fingers brushed against her slick pussy folds.
“Do you feel that?” I whispered against her throat, sliding my fingers through her wetness and spreading the moisture along her clit.“That’s how badly you need me.”
She moaned, and her hips shifted toward my touch, desperate for more.
I smirked against her skin, slipping one thick finger inside her pussy, slow, deep.
She gasped, and her hands flew to my arm, clutching, holding on.
I stilled.
Letting her feel my finger.
Letting herunderstand.
“My sweet Rae, how could any man ever tell you that you were not enough?”
She shivered.
“You are more than enough. You areeverything.”
She whimpered, and her pussy tightened around my fingers.
I pushed another inch inside, loving the way she felt lush, decadent, and ripe in my hands.
“You should have been worshipped,” I growled, furious for her. Furious for every moment of doubt that waste of a man had made her feel. “You should have been touched like this every fucking day.”
Her breath came in uneven pants, her body bowing beneath my touch.
“Tell me.” I slipped my lips over her jaw and down her throat, “Did he ever touch you like this?”
“N-no.”
I slid my other fingers lower, teasing her entrance, feeling the way she clenched, her body alreadybeggingfor something deeper.
“You’re so fucking wet. All this, for me?”
“Yes, Fabien. All for you.”
I pulled my finger out and then added another pushing them inside her pussy—slow and deep—savoring the way she stretched for me, how her body welcomed me.
She shuddered against my fingers. “Oh, fuck.”
