[Thank god he covers her mouth, because the second his hand connects with her ass she squeaks, a ridiculous little noise that's more surprised than pained. It's muffled, and she shudders the moment it leaves her, in no small part because she can hear a shout of laughter from inside the bar. They're so close, and she whines softly, her eyes closing tightly as he yanks her underwear down.
And oh, fuck, but that's hideously good. He's barely even doing anything, but it doesn't matter; she jerks and squirms, throbbing around nothing, eager to feel those heated fingers push up and into her.
She doesn't answer his question. Of course she's been thinking of him; she's been thinking of him the moment she pressed up against him (was it really only half an hour ago?). She's thinking of how he's hard behind her; of how it would feel for him to bend her over and take her right now, in the alley, and damned anyone who might see them. And she's thinking of how her ass stings, but not enough; how he'd threatened to put her over his knee and how wet that had made her.
His fingers drag over her shamelessly, but not far enough, and she growls softly in irritation. Rosalind squirms pointedly, her hips rocking backwards. More, that isn't enough, and he's not stupid, he's not refusing her because he's shy or clumsy, but still she acts as though he needs instruction. More, and she drops her mouth open, wet lips against his palm, tipping her head to try and catch his fingers in her mouth.]
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And oh, fuck, but that's hideously good. He's barely even doing anything, but it doesn't matter; she jerks and squirms, throbbing around nothing, eager to feel those heated fingers push up and into her.
She doesn't answer his question. Of course she's been thinking of him; she's been thinking of him the moment she pressed up against him (was it really only half an hour ago?). She's thinking of how he's hard behind her; of how it would feel for him to bend her over and take her right now, in the alley, and damned anyone who might see them. And she's thinking of how her ass stings, but not enough; how he'd threatened to put her over his knee and how wet that had made her.
His fingers drag over her shamelessly, but not far enough, and she growls softly in irritation. Rosalind squirms pointedly, her hips rocking backwards. More, that isn't enough, and he's not stupid, he's not refusing her because he's shy or clumsy, but still she acts as though he needs instruction. More, and she drops her mouth open, wet lips against his palm, tipping her head to try and catch his fingers in her mouth.]