Ren's breath hitched, caught somewhere between her throat and her racing heart.
Before she could ask what he wanted to try, Altair moved. He acted on his curiosity.
He slid one long finger inside her slick opening.
"Oh," Ren gasped, her hips arching off the moss instinctively to meet him.
He didn't frantically pump. He didn't rush. He studied her face with the intensity of a surgeon operating a life-or-death procedure, watching her pupils dilate and her lips part as he thrust his finger in and out. Slowly. Deliberately. Testing the friction. Testing the depth.
"Mmmph," Ren whimpered, her hands gripping his biceps. Her body was hot, eager, and demanding. She wanted more. She wanted him to move faster. She wanted him to add a second finger. She wanted—
Pop.
Suddenly, the sensation was gone.
Altair removed his finger.
Ren's eyes snapped open, her body crashing down from the precipice of pleasure like a stone dropped in a well.
