“Yes, you can. No one can see what you’re doing. Just slide it down the front of your shorts and feel how wet you are.”
My breathing quickens as my hand obeys him, even as my head thinks this is a bad idea. Shifting the hoodie up just enough, I find the top of my shorts and slip my hand under the fabric into my panties, and the moment I feel my swollen wet heat, I moan.
I gasp in embarrassment, but Ringo ignores that.
“Are you wet?”
“Yes.” I nod behind the sheet, and he does another one of those animalistic growls.
“Show me.”
30
Istill my fingers’ exploration. Did he just ask me to show him my wet fingers?
“W-what?” I stutter, my eyes wide.
“Bring your wet fingers out and show me.” He smirks as he demands it, and my lips part in an O as once again I obey.
Dropping the hold I have on the sheet, my face becomes exposed again as I use my left hand to hold my shorts open, so my wet fingers don’t wipe on them, and I slip them out, holding them up to show him what he wants.
“Fuck, Angel. I want to taste it.” His face doesn’t hold an ounce of the amusement it did a minute ago. Instead, there’s a hunger in his gaze. Want. Desperation.
I can relate.
It’s how I feel when I watch him like this.
“You wantto taste it?” I squeak, needing confirmation, and he nods.
“Fuck yes, Angel.”
Oh.
Can I?
Just do it, Abbey. Give him what he wants. It’s what you want too.
“Just reach out and let me lick your fingers,” he rasps, his voice huskier than before, and hell, it’s so sexy. This man is so… hot. Yes. Hot. There’s no other word for it.
Aroused beyond belief, my core flutters between legs, and I find myself reaching out my wet fingers in his direction, desperate to give him the taste he asked for.
Stepping forward, Ringo positions one knee on the bed as he leans in, his eyes locked onto mine the whole time, until the moment his tongue darts out and flicks over my fingers.
His lids fall closed as he tastes me, a groan floating from him before his dark gaze meets mine again.
“Can I suck your fingers clean, Angel?”
Oh, my… that rasp.
I nod quickly, desperate for it, rubbing my thighs together when he growls. Then his lips part, and a second later, he wraps them around my two digits and sucks them into the heat of his mouth.
My left hand presses between my thighs in an instant, the ache there nearly too much to bear, and I have to fight the urge to grab his hand and put it between my legs instead.
That thought is what has me snatching my hand back, and I half expect Ringo to be mad, but he only smiles, licking his lips in a way that has more heat gathering.
How does he do that to me?
Shifting, Ringo stands back beside the bed, hand gripping his dick once again and he starts wanking it faster than before, his grip looking almost painful.