My face feels hot for so many reason, the least of which being that I've used a word I almost never ever use. But, frankly, I'm not sure I can be blamed. It's just... it's all so good. Everything feels so, so good.

He's still moving, rocking his hips back and then forward, sinking into me each time, filling me up and splitting me in two. All I can do it cling to him, desperate to hold on as my legs start to shake. Every other thrust or so, he hits that spot inside me, makes my breath catch and my nerves explode and I don't know how I can be so hard without him even touching me, but I already feel so close to the edge, can feel my come leaking from the tip to pool on my belly.

"Jack," I whine when he murmurs something in French. But then he tries in English and I'm whining for a while different reason.

"I can't-- I don't--" Because as good as it all is, I don't think I can come like this.

It's so easy to just get lost in this though and I keep one hand locked around the back of his neck, keeping him close as I breathe into his open mouth, swallowing every punched exhale as he rocks in deep. "You... you first, okay?" I manage finally, squeezing my thighs around him and rolling my hips upward. "Come inside me. Please."