The sensation was too much, yet not nearly enough. With each deep, probing thrust of his tongue, Miku felt a fresh rush of her own arousal, her juices flowing more abundantly, making his work slicker, messier, more obscenely wonderful.
Ross was relentless.
He could feel the tell-tale fluttering of her inner muscles beginning to clench around the intrusion of his tongue, the first tremors of the orgasm he was so expertly building.
He redoubled his efforts, one hand moving from her thigh to press the heel of his palm firmly against her clit, applying a delicious, steady pressure as his tongue continued to plunge deep within her.
The duality of sensation—the deep, filling thrusts and the persistent, circling pressure on her most sensitive nub—drove her to the brink of sanity.
It did not take long for the climax to shatter her.
The tension that had been coiling low in her belly snapped.
