She was doing more than looking. Her fingers traced patterns on my thighs that made my muscles twitch, and her lips brushed against the sensitive skin just above my hip in a way that had me gripping the sheets hard enough to tear them.
"You're enjoying this."
"Immensely."
"That's sadistic."
"I prefer 'thorough.'"
SShe took her time. Each touch of her lips felt deliberate, a slow exploration across my stomach, my ribs, the hollow of my hip. Her hands followed the same path, fingers pressing into muscle while her mouth traced lower. By the time her hand finally wrapped around me, my breathing had turned ragged.
The sensation hit like a shockwave. Every nerve ending seemed to fire at once, my body responding before my mind could catch up.
"Still with me?"
"Barely."
"Good."
