With Isaac’s help (and distraction) she managed to shove her jeans down far enough to kick one leg out of them. Just moving around at all, she had to stop every few seconds to close her eyes, or bite her lip, or gasp, for the pleasure of it. She completely gave up trying to touch him, sprawled out across the bed with her jeans still hanging off one foot.
Watching her with widening eyes and parted lips, Isaac whimpered lowly in response as he hungrily devoured her writhing body. As he slipped his fingers deeper inside her, he moved to sit up on his knees and hover over her, focused solely on her pleasure and ignoring his own for now.
“Slow,” Summer begged, face heated and hands clutched deep in the coverlet, “oh please slow.” He was so close, she couldn’t help tasting his pleasure and desire, his need to make her feel good — the feedback loop was powerful. She whimpered his name over and over, back arching and rocking into his hand. The peak was just out of reach, and she grabbed for him, hand flailing at his arm to pull him down by her so she could kiss him.