Abigail
There was nothing sexier than a very aroused Finnegan Wolfe. I watched him, my own arousal a slick, wet heat between my thighs.
Finnegan was beautiful.
His head was thrown back against the flimsy wall of the photo booth, the sharp line of his jaw clenched so tight it was a wonder his teeth didn't crack.
His eyes were squeezed shut. A few seconds ago I had seen them roll back in pure pleasure.
His hands were fisted in my hair. His cock was thick and heavy on my tongue, swollen and pulsing hotly. I could feel him fighting it, fighting the urge to thrust, to take control, to fuck my throat the way he really wanted to.
The way I needed him to. Seeing him struggle for control only had me wetter and hungrier for more. I wanted to break it. I wanted to shatter his control until he was completely lost to the pleasure I was giving him.
