I pull my hand from beneath the table, and the look painted across her features is pure anguish. She was right there. Right at that beautiful, blissful moment where nothing else exists but blinding pleasure, and the building sense of release.
“Not yet. When you come all over my hand, we’ll be somewhere private where I can enjoy every second of it.”
“Then why the hell did you do that?” she asks, breathless, and clearly frustrated.
I shrug, my mouth turning up in a smirk. “Just wanted to see if I could still get you off in under a few minutes.”
She frowns. “Well don’t you deserve a pat on the back? Are we done here?”
“Eager,” I remark. Her p***y juices are drying on my finger, and it takes all my restraint not to bring my hand to my mouth to taste her. I’m a caveman, but I still have so
