𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝟏𝟎𝟏 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐗𝐈𝐈

• 12 •

When Adil took his shirt off, I fucking lost it.

The throb, pleasurable as it is, had became unbearable. I can feel the rough denim of his pants through my thin underwear, but it's not enough. To send my message, my nails dug into the skin of his back, my own arching in desperation. I breathed out against his swollen lips, "Please. More, please."

The look I received from the man in between my legs had me squirming for more—anything, just more. Our mouths clashed and our tongues collided. I whimpered when his fingers grasped my thighs and unwound my legs from his waist. Before I could protest, I realized his next move. Adil licked two fingers, put his hand in between us, slipped lace to the side, and inserted the wet digits into me.

Adil sucked on my neck, at my lips, and at the swell of my breasts. His hand worked wonders, fingers curling and rubbing, pushing, circling, and pumping. "Fuck, right there," I moaned when he hooked them to a beloved spot.

He chuckled lowly. His face filled my view. Adil's voice was the audile epitome of sultry, "Right here, babe?" was his rhetorical question as the two fingers massaged my sweet spot.

Instead of a verbal reply, I bit his lower lip and tugged. That had him groaning. Reciprocating, I trailed kisses all over his jaw down to his neck, the thin stubble tickling my lips. He shifted above me and I finally got a good glimpse of his body.

Ladies and gentlemen, Adil Essa has a chest tattoo, an arm tattoo, and one on his side.

His fingers worked me until my moans grew constant. Adil's head fell to the curve of my neck and kept it there as he aided my throbbing sex with his hand. When I tugged on his hair, he dipped a third finger inside. I touched the bulge in his pants, fingers unsteady when I fiddled his zipper one-handed.

My legs started shaking as my orgasm neared. Another person's fingers always hits different from my own, especially when they're skilled. Adil is exactly that.

My unoccupied hand slipped inside my underwear and rubbed furiously at the hood of my slit, desperate for a release that'll make me scream. Adil's lips coaxed mine, quietly urging me to let go. After another minute, I did.

The noise I was about to make was muffled by his mouth against mine. His fingers kept moving as my hips bucked forward, chasing the residual rains of pleasure down below. Once I had dealt with its aftermath, I turned us over.

Adil's hands grabbed at my behind and pulled the cheeks apart. He spoke against my lips, "Your friend's arriving anytime now," he reminded me of Ralph's advent, but my only concern was Thistle watching us in the shadows.

I started tugging his pants off, "I don't give a shit," and kissed him again. My hand dove into his boxers and came in contact with something hard and something warm. Pulling it out, it was also something thick and lengthy.

"Gia," he held my wrists in place.

"I wanna," kiss, "Feel you," another kiss, "Inside of me," and another.

We made out again. I gripped his erection and offered a slow, pleasurable torture. My other hand let its fingertips graze the brown-skinned bumps on his abdomen. Holy fuck, holy fuck, holy fuck.