Book 4: At Last

Chloe

When Tony's fingers brush against my sensitive, swollen clit, I whine, squirming under him. He hisses immediately, feeling my wetness soaking his fingertips, and his other hand, which is still on my breast, squeezes it involuntarily.

"Shit, you're so wet, Chloe," he murmurs, lowering himself on me once more. 

Then his hand pulls my cleavage down, finally releasing my breasts. My brain threatens to explode when Tony grabs one nipple into his mouth, licking and sucking at it while his other hand plays with me down there. I am overwhelmed with sensations, unsure of what to do with my hands and myself.

"Tony," I cry again. 

I want him to finish me soon, but I also want him to take as long as possible. He makes me feel so good, and we have barely even started. The one and only time we slept together, I was drunk. And even though I still dream about that moment to this day, it isn't as clear to me as I wish it was.