She bit her lip, her eyes locking onto mine with a dark, heavy intent. She gave a slow nod, and I felt her hand move. She reached down, her fingers sliding under the waistband of my shorts and grabbing my half-hard cock. She squeezed, her thumb tracing the head with a slow pressure that made my brain go fuzzy.
The glass panels of the balcony held back the worst of the winter wind, but the air out here was still sharp enough to make every touch feel like a lightning strike. Jasmine's hand was a furnace against my skin as she gripped me, her thumb sliding over the head of my cock with a slow, heavy pressure. I let out a long, jagged exhale, my head thumping back against the sunbed's cushion.
"You're always so ready for me," she whispered, her voice dropping into that low, smoky register that made my blood boil. "Even when you're moping about Nala, this part of you knows exactly what it wants."
