Tylen’s breath hitched. As he let it out, he leaned forward, propping up on his knuckles around me to bury the last couple inches inside. Sweat beaded on his brow, and his rapid panting seemed to echo my own.
“Of all that is holy…” he muttered.
“Good?” I couldn’t help but tease.
“Amazing.” He eased back, but not far, not nearly long enough for me to miss the stretch, then slammed forward with more force than I would’ve deemed possible from him.
I cried out and clutched at his back, the air turning to music between my suddenly splayed fingers.
My inadvertent playing spurred Tylen to motion. He lengthened his strokes, pulling out, shoving forward, raging for friction more and more, while I slid my hand down to his ass, my fingertips digging into the taut cheeks with strength I couldn’t
