A whine, needy and tinged with begging and laughter, slipped out of Krem as Thomas slowed down. He bit his lower lip and squirmed, rocking his hips down to meet every deep penetration of Thomas's fingers. He kept his own hand moving at as steady a pace as he could manage, but his mind was unwinding rapidly.

Krem swore as he felt the tipping of it, the rushing warmth and the stuttering, clenching, overwhelming way his cunt squeezed around Thomas's fingers. He arched off of the bed, moaning breathlessly as his free hand gripped at Thomas's wrist and held his hand so he wouldn't pull back from having his fingers buried in his cunt.