Either way, it didn’t matter. She would take what she could get. And this felt too good to stop.
He guided her to caress her breasts. He kissed her shoulders as her hands learned the way she wanted her nipples pulled. And then he pushed her hand down her belly and into her curls.
It was wet there and so sensitive. She wanted his fingers there, but he refused. He guided her to explore. He held her open and told her to stroke herself. And when the positioning became too awkward, he pulled her backwards.
He settled her on top of him, her head on his shoulder, her breasts open to the ceiling. He set her legs on either side of his and he spread her wide.
‘Do whatever feels good,’ he said. ‘I will hold you safe.’
‘But you—’
‘I am in heaven, Lucy. Show me what you like.’
And so she did. At his urging, she touched herself. She pushed inside her own body as she had never done before. And she stroked herself until she writhed.
‘If I cover your mouth with a pillow, will you scream?’ he asked.
She would do anything he wanted. ‘Yes.’
‘Scream my name,’ he said.
Easy. She had been crying it out in her thoughts for weeks now.
He still would not stroke her. He still insisted she do it to herself. So she spread her legs and pleasured herself while a small pillow lay over her mouth.
‘Cedric,’ she said as her belly began to tighten.
‘Cedric!’ she gasped as her legs tensed around his.
‘Cedric!’ she repeated as she pulsed upwards into her hand.
‘Yes,’ she gasped. ‘Yes. Yes!’
I love you.