It's her tongue that's killing him, so soft and wet and curled around the spot where he needs it most. His mouth drops open, fast breaths pulled into a tight chest and the hand tightens in her hair.
'Bolly.'
He's hurtling towards the end, and almost can't form the words he has to.
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'Bolly.'
He's hurtling towards the end, and almost can't form the words he has to.
'Stop.'