Foreman was so hard it hurt. If he'd had a hand free, he would've reached down to stroke himself, echo the same pattern he was using with Amber--come with her--Christ. His erection curved against his stomach, and he moved his hips impatiently, need clenching low in his stomach, tightening his balls. If Amber had worried that he'd never manage to call her baby again, she needn't have. His mouth was too busy to form the words, but they filled his mind, over and over again; every motion was his way of saying it, of showing it. Amber's desperation had grown, her thighs squeezing tighter around him, her rolling thrusts opening her up to him as much as she could. Each new suck or lick brought a fresh, stronger taste of her with it. Foreman's skin burned, feeling Amber's heat in sympathy with his own.
Amber's frustration, her impatience, it all showed through. Her fingernails were pinching the skin at the back of his neck as she tried to pull him up; her hips were moving so much that she was nearly rubbing off on his face the way she'd been doing on his leg earlier. Each sound that left her throat seemed to be torn from her, high-pitched and halfway between pain and entreaty. They were wordless, sharp moans, ohh gasped out, and Foreman knew she needed more. Was asking for more. He was almost hesitant to go further, though. The last thing he wanted was to ruin it now. Just enough, just that last touch--God, he wanted her to remember this, remember feeling like this, remember trusting him. He never wanted to hurt her.
He switched positions, sliding one finger inside Amber, enough to give her something to clench down on, not so much that his thrusts would leave her oversensitive. His mouth went to her clit, careful, so goddamn careful. One swirling lick, paying attention to Amber's reaction, straining his ears to hear her, concentrating on her hands tightening around the back of his head. All the signs pointed towards keep going, and he did, sucking gently on her clit, adding the occasional probe with his tongue, his finger inside her rubbing almost delicately. Foreman increased the suction incrementally, let Amber's hips free to push herself against him or to pull away, tell him what she wanted. She had to be close. Because of him. Wild, because of him, lost and needy and feeling so good, for him. So hot. Come on, baby. Come for me.
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Amber's frustration, her impatience, it all showed through. Her fingernails were pinching the skin at the back of his neck as she tried to pull him up; her hips were moving so much that she was nearly rubbing off on his face the way she'd been doing on his leg earlier. Each sound that left her throat seemed to be torn from her, high-pitched and halfway between pain and entreaty. They were wordless, sharp moans, ohh gasped out, and Foreman knew she needed more. Was asking for more. He was almost hesitant to go further, though. The last thing he wanted was to ruin it now. Just enough, just that last touch--God, he wanted her to remember this, remember feeling like this, remember trusting him. He never wanted to hurt her.
He switched positions, sliding one finger inside Amber, enough to give her something to clench down on, not so much that his thrusts would leave her oversensitive. His mouth went to her clit, careful, so goddamn careful. One swirling lick, paying attention to Amber's reaction, straining his ears to hear her, concentrating on her hands tightening around the back of his head. All the signs pointed towards keep going, and he did, sucking gently on her clit, adding the occasional probe with his tongue, his finger inside her rubbing almost delicately. Foreman increased the suction incrementally, let Amber's hips free to push herself against him or to pull away, tell him what she wanted. She had to be close. Because of him. Wild, because of him, lost and needy and feeling so good, for him. So hot. Come on, baby. Come for me.