Page 57 of The Bachelor

Her eyes answered me, but she still whispered, “No. I’ve only let them in about an inch, nothing more.”

I tilted my palm forward, arching my finger toward her stomach, and very gradually circled that spot. “And here?”

Her head hit the cushion behind her, and her eyes closed. “Where are you?” Her throat moved as she swallowed. “What is that?”

“Your G-spot.”

“And I thought it was a myth.”

I laughed. “Far from it.”

“I’m going to die right here in this booth.” Her eyes flicked open. “I’m not going to survive this. This is”—her head moved from side to side—“the most physically overwhelming experience of my life.”

And I was barely fucking touching her.

Oaklyn had either been sadly deprived in the past or something about my touch set her off more than any other.

I didn’t want to think too much about either, so I gave her what she wanted instead.

And that was more friction, more pressure, more pumping of my finger.

“Do you think that table can smell how turned on you are?” I nodded toward the one that was directly behind the red-shirted guy, where two dudes sat, both around our age and more than aware of what could go down in this booth. “Do you think they can smell the sweetness of your cunt?”

“Camden—”

“Answer me.”

“Yes!” Her reply earned us looks from each of them, and I rewarded her with an increase in speed. “Oh fuck”—she swallowed—“I think they can smell how you’re making me feel.”

Her lips stayed parted, and her back arched as she released my wrist. Her hands moved to the edge of the table, her fingers turning white as she held on. Her lips were wet from licking them, her eyes almost feral.

There was nothing more gorgeous than the sight in front of me.

Nothing that had ever made my dick harder, aside from the scene that had played out at my condo with her. Nothing that had felt as good as the way her pussy was clenching my finger, the way her clit was hardening under my thumb.

“Come,” I demanded. I increased my speed again and growled, “Come for me, Oaklyn.”

Her mouth opened like she was going to scream. She inhaled as much air as she could hold, and the second her lungs were full, she shuddered. “Ahhh.”

Each rock of her hips bumped my thumb, but I didn’t stop.

I went harder, faster.

I watched the waves move across her face, the satisfaction filling her gaze.

I listened to the sound of her breathing, panting, until she made one final sigh of, “Camden,” and her head fell back. “What the fuck was that?”

“The beginning.” I was sure she was probably sensitive, so I stalled, her wetness turning thick on my finger. “And there’s going to be a lot more.”

Her head straightened. “I thought you were kidding.”

“When it comes to your pussy, Oaklyn, I will never kid.”

I carefully traced my thumb down her clit, each bit of movement showing in her expression.

“Tingly?” I asked.

“In ways I can’t even describe.”

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