it was that flowed between them as she was. She needed him to ache, to want, to need just as badly as she needed him. In every way.
Her fingers slid back, slick and hot; her juices coating them and glistening on the curves of her pussy.
Watching him, Sheila touched, pleasured, and knew she would never be able to touch herself again without him watching. Never would she be able to find even the smallest satisfaction without Casey.
The sensations were sharper, more exciting than they had ever been without him. They sizzled through her body, burned through her clit and tightened her womb with spasms of her approaching orgasm.
Casey licked his lips, a slow, hungry movement that mesmerized her as she circled her clit with her fingers, causing the little bud to swell harder, tighter.
Her breathing was rougher now, as though she couldn’t draw enough air into her lungs.
Excitement whipped through her. As though her nerve endings were live wires, exposed and spilling their energy sensation over her flesh. And if the look on Casey’s face was any indication, he was feeling it as well.
His eyes were almost black. She had only seen that when he was at his most aroused. His lips were fuller, heavier, his hard chest gleaming with sweat as he stroked the length of his cock with slow, easy strokes.
The heavily veined, pulsing erection held her attention as she slid two fingers inside the gripping, saturated flesh between her thighs once more.
It wasn’t her fingers she felt.
It wasn’t her own touch that held her enraptured.
It was the remembered feel, the remembered pleasure of Casey’s possession that made her insane. That made her come apart at the seams.
As her fingers penetrated her pussy, it was his cock she felt. It was his possession. The echoes of it. The remembered feel of him stretching her as she parted her fingers and scissored them against the clenched muscles surrounding them.
“Casey,” she whispered his name, her voice rough, filled with need as she realized her eyes had closed.
They jerked open, staring back at him in surprise as she realized he was much closer. He was kneeling between her spread knees, sitting back on his heels as he stroked his cock and watched her.
“Don’t stop,” he growled. “Fuck yourself, Sheila. Let me see you. Let me see how much you want me to touch you.”
She wanted him to touch her bad.
Her hips lifted. A moan tore from her.
His expression tightened.
Kneeling between her knees, his gaze focused on the flesh between her thighs as she penetrated herself, her fingers gleaming with her juices as she tried to hold back her release.
“I dream of you,” she gasped, feeling the release racing to her.
“What do you dream, baby?”
“Of this, sometimes,” she whispered desperately. “Of you taking me, making me cry out for you, because the pleasure is so intense I can barely stand it.”
She wasn’t going to scream in need for it. She was going to demand he take her, that he possess her. She was going to beg him for it.
Her fingers slid back, finding her clit as his gaze lifted to hers once again.
“Fuck me, Casey,” she whispered. “Please. I need you. I need you inside me so bad I don’t think I can bear it.”
He moved closer.
“Keep touching yourself.”
He lifted her thigh, moving in, bending over her, positioning the wide head of his cock at the greedy, saturated entrance to her sex.
She caressed her clit, arching, her breasts lifting as his lips descended to one hard, tight nipple.
Sharp, ecstatic sensation tore through the sensitive tip, streaking through her body to slam into the responsive depths of her womb, then into her pussy.
He sucked the tip into his mouth as the flared head began to part the snug entrance of her pussy.
Sliding her fingers into the cool, thick strands of his hair, Sheila could only gasp his name. Sensation swirled through her senses, pleasure tore through her body. Stretching, burning, his cock worked inside her,