At this point, I was oblivious to almost everything around me except for the feel of his hands on my skin. My hips started to twist of their own accord, seeking the hand the refused to release the desire coiling in my womb. He released the clasp on my bra and I suddenly felt his hand directly on my breasts as he fingered and gently squeezed my nipples. I was practically a wild animal, twisting my hips and my upper body to gain more contact with his magical hands, grabbing the sides of his face, I brought him down for a kiss. No shy playful kisses now, but open-mouthed hungry kisses. Our tongues intertwining, mimicking what I wanted him to do to me. “Are you hot enough for me yet? Are you wet?” he murmured in my ear as his hand finally slipped below to brush across my clitoris. “Ahhh, you are sopping for me,” I could hear the masculine pride in his voice, but didn’t care because at that moment my body was shaking and practically in convulsions before finally shattering, leaving me limp and spent in his arms. “Beautiful,” he said.