"I—I can't—" she gasped, her head falling back, banging lightly against the wall behind her. "Oh my God, it's too much. I can't—" Her body arched again as I grazed my thumbs beneath her bra, feather-light touches that had her sobbing with need.
I kissed the hollow of her throat and felt her swallow hard under my mouth.
Her moans were louder now—full-body cries, drawn from some primal place she'd kept locked up for too damn long.
"Ahn—ahh… oh fuck—right there—God, please…"
Her thighs were trembling. Her stomach tightened with every stroke of my hands. Tears welled up in her eyes again, spilling over, but they weren't sad. They were release. Relief. The sensation of being wanted so hard her body didn't know how to handle it.
"Please," she sobbed, her nails clawing into my back. "Don't stop. Don't stop. I've never—never felt like this. Please, Peter—God, don't stop."
