"Fuck," Kate whispers, pure, sweet relief that he's getting to the point. It's weird, she thinks as his hair slips through her fingers, that she doesn't want to beg tonight or wait. Just wants to feel him, foreplay instead of delayed gratification.

Her back arches, pushing her breasts to his mouth while she splays her thighs for his hips or his hands. He has great hands, thick strong fingers, but she's not feeling picky. "So good."