we're always running scared but holding knives
Her moan cuts off at the sensation of finally being filled, being had, and her legs hook around Remi's waist at the same time as he drags her against him, forcing a gasp of pleasure from the doctor's throat. "Fuck, yes--" she cries, her free hand dragging through the back of his hair, head tipping back to feel his mouth seal around one of her breasts.
It's all entirely too fucking much, especially given that he's already teased one orgasm out of her today, and Isla works to meet every one of his thrusts with a greedy roll of her hips. "Gods, like that," she encourages, needing no instruction as his thumb presses against her lip. Nipping at the digit, her tongue soon curls around it, as if to echo his actions from the day before.
It's all entirely too fucking much, especially given that he's already teased one orgasm out of her today, and Isla works to meet every one of his thrusts with a greedy roll of her hips. "Gods, like that," she encourages, needing no instruction as his thumb presses against her lip. Nipping at the digit, her tongue soon curls around it, as if to echo his actions from the day before.
Isla
