"What? Does that feel good?"
You couldn't get anything out aside from a breathy moan and a weak nod, his voice like honeyed butter dripping from his lips.
He was tucked against your side, face pushed against your neck, one of his legs draped over yours - effectively keeping your own leg pinned to the mattress. It had started innocently enough. But it never stays that way for long. Gentle caresses turn into harder grips, soft traces of fingertips turn into nails scratching, and sweet kisses almost always turn into more - more moans, more grunts, more pants. Until you're both gasping for air and writhing on the bed together.
That's how your movie night in bed ended with the credits rolling and two long, slender, ringless fingers pumping into you at the most tormenting pace.
"Hm?" He prompted again. You knew he was smug without seeing him, the ghost of a smirk playing against the side of your throat as your hips rolled with his hand, begging for more. "That's it, yeah?"
"Yeah," you breathed, clenching down on his digits.
His teeth scraped across your jaw, lips finding yours with a groan. You were soaked, you could feel it with every pump of his hand. And when he pulled back just in time to watch your face as he pulled your wetness up to your swollen clit, your mouth fell open around a moan.
He did it again and again, whine after whine slipping up your throat as he alternated between dipping his fingers into you and circling your clit. Back and forth, back and forth, until you could barely take it, so wet and swollen, ready to come at any moment.
"That's it," he groaned. His voice was so fucking deep, arousal laced through every octave. "Be my good girl and give it to me."
His glistening fingers repeatedly flicked over your clit, hyper focused on the most sensitive spot, knowing it was your undoing. And that never got old - the way he wanted you to come, so he made you come, knowing exactly how to pull your orgasm from you.
Which he did, tremors shooting across your skin as you came, moaning his name and gripping his hair.
"Fuck, good girl." He kissed you roughly, slowing his movements on your clit before slipping his fingers inside you once more.
You hummed a moan against his lips, his tongue meeting yours briefly before he was kissing down your chin and throat, lips grazing your collarbones and chest hotly, the scruff on his face a welcomed contrast to his now soft touch.
"Wanna watch you do that again," he conceded as he kissed down your body slowly, taking his time to suck and lick one of your pebbled nipples, and then the other. "And again." Lips pressed against your sternum, sucking kisses to your waist, breathy moans against your hips; every move he made keeping the fire simmering low in your belly. "And again. As many times as you'll let me."
Your skin was burning from both his mouth and his words, your core fluttering around his fingers. Warm breath met your sensitive clit first, then the softest touch of his lips as he kissed you.
"H," you breathed, gripping his hair between your fingers tighter as he made himself comfortable on his stomach.
He turned to press a kiss to the skin of your inner thigh, his free hand squeezing your hip tightly. "Think I'm addicted to making you come."
You couldn't stop your head from tilting back and the soft "fuck" that escaped your lips when his tongue met your clit, warm and full.
He wasn't the only addicted one.
***
