"Careful," I echoed, one hand sliding up her side, tracing the dip of her waist before cupping the underside of one heavy breast through the lace. It overflowed my palm, warm and full, the damp material clinging like it was painted on.
I squeezed gently, thumb circling the hard nipple, feeling it stiffen even more.
She arched into my touch, a soft cry escaping, her hips rocking subtly again, grinding down on the hard line of me. The friction made us both groan.
I tugged the bra strap down one shoulder slow, exposing more of that creamy skin, but left the lace covering her nipples—teasing, keeping the barrier for now.
My other hand stayed on her thigh, squeezing the inner softness, fingers inching higher toward the heat but not quite touching.
"Feel that?" I whispered, rocking her forward again, letting my cock press harder against her through the jeans. "That's what you do to me."
