Justin POV:
I hooked my hands under her thighs, carried her to the couch, dropped to my knees in front of her and yanked her joggers off with one sharp pull. Her underwear came next, soaked and sticking to her skin. She squirmed under my stare, but didn't look away.
I spread her thighs.
And she was already soaked.
I didn't ask. I didn't tease.
I buried my face between her legs like a man possessed, like she was salvation and I'd gone too long without a drop. Her cry was sharp, her hand flying to my hair again, holding on for dear life as my tongue moved slow and deep—then fast and relentless.
Her hips bucked, thighs trembling, breath turning to high-pitched moans as I devoured her, tasting her unraveling. When I slipped two fingers inside, she nearly broke in half, legs clamping around my head.
"J-Justin—fuck—please—"
I didn't stop until she screamed, back arched, body convulsing, coming hard around my fingers, my mouth still latched to her like I couldn't get enough.
