Edward's voice was low. "Use your hand."
She blinked. "W-what?"
"Stroke it." he clarified. "Everything is already building up gradually."
Her stomach dropped. Stroke it. The words settled in her mind, heavy and obscene. She swallowed, her throat dry. "I—I don't know how."
His grip on her neck tightened just slightly, not enough to hurt, but enough to make her pulse jump. "You'll figure it out."
Thaleia hesitated, her hand hovering in the air between them. She could feel the heat radiating off him, seeing the way his cock jerked as if impatient. Her fingers trembled as she finally, finally, reached out.
The first touch was electric.
Her fingertips brushed against the hot, smooth skin, and she flinched. It was softer than she expected, the skin velvety over the rigid hardness beneath. She wrapped her fingers around it experimentally, her grip loose, unsure. Edward didn't move, didn't react, but his breath hitched—just barely.
