There was no going back.
My index finger circled my clit in slow, soft motions, moans slipping from my lips as heat spread through me.
Upstairs, the woman was still moaning. Loud, wanton, shameless. He was doing this on purpose. He wanted to break me. To see how long I could cling to my so-called morals.
As much as I hated to admit it, he was winning.
“That’s it… slide your finger into your cunt,” he ordered, voice low and commanding.
He liked it when women touched themselves. That much was clear. And that alone made me wetter, because that was exactly what I was doing.
I slid my finger into my p***y. My walls clenched around it, needy and desperate. I had done this before, years ago, but never like this. Never with someone like him in my head.
“Pull your finger out and taste yourse
