Dahlia's POV
David's eyes locked on mine. Neither of us breathed.
His forehead stayed pressed to mine, breath hot against my lips. My fingers were still wrapped around the thick, heavy length of him inside his sweatpants, and I could feel the way his cock twitched hard in my grip at the interruption. A low, frustrated sound rumbled in his chest.
"Ignore it," he muttered, voice rough. His hips gave a tiny involuntary push into my hand. "She can fucking wait."
I squeezed him once, slow and deliberate, watching his jaw tighten. The head was already slick against my palm.
"Good girl," he breathed. He kissed me again—deeper this time, tongue sliding against mine like he was still tasting the way I'd come on his mouth minutes ago. One hand stayed under my knee, keeping me open; the other shoved his sweatpants down just far enough for his cock to spring free into my waiting hand.
