Bruce released her nipple with a wet pop and let his head fall back, eyes squeezed shut as she stroked him once, twice, slow and deliberate, learning the thick, velvet heat of him, the way he pulsed in her grip.
"Sophie," he rasped, the word torn out of him like it hurt.
She answered by tightening her fingers and sliding them up to the tip, spreading the bead of moisture there in a slow circle. His hips jerked, his hands clamped down on her thighs hard enough to leave marks she already wanted to keep.
He surged up suddenly, mouth crashing into hers, kissing her deep and filthy, desperate, while his hands slid to her hips. He hooked his fingers in the thin lace of her panties and tugged. The fabric gave with a soft rip that made her gasp into his mouth.
Cool air kissed her skin for only a moment. Then his palm was there, sliding between her thighs, parting her, finding her soaked and swollen and aching.
He groaned against her lips. "Damn, Sophie…"
