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SEVENTEEN

MOIRA

Oh fuck, it’s good.

Why does it have to be so good?

I was really hoping that having such a big tool would mean his weird cocky ego was fronting for inadequacy.

But nope.

He does this slow-scoop-thrust-thing that hits spots I didn’t even know I had .

Oh, God , that’s good.

I arch into his body.

He spanks me again, and it’s just right. The bottom of my jiggling ass cheek bounces right to my pussy, and I clench around him inside me.

Which makes his fingers flex on my ass, his cock buck deeper inside me, and his top lip twitch. Like a dangerous, furious Elvis.

Fuck, how does he make that hot?

I come.

I grab a fistful of his hair, my hips thrusting back and then bucking forward against him with the seizure-like orgasm that rocks my body.

His hand lifts, caging my face with clenched fingers, but somehow, he’s careful only to gently caress my cheek at the same time.

I lift my eyes as pained agony washes over his face before, for the most fleeting of moments, something like pure, undiluted happiness replaces it.

Then my shoulders rear back with the next wave of the world’s single most intense double orgasm.