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... bare legs wrapped around his waist. She felt his hands grip her backside, his eyes trained to hers. She was breathless when he lay her back against the bed again, falling down on his arms surrounding her with his musky scent and her heart beat against her ribcage so hard she was afraid she might just implode. Her breath became shallow when he trailed a hand down her front, his fingers returning to her clit with renewed affection. Or determination; she wasn't exactly sure which emotion drove him to the perfection that occurred down there. She let out a deep throated moan when he stroked long and hard against her beating core. So distracted was she by the ministrations that it felt like the most natural thing in the world when he pushed inside of her again, filling her to the hilt. He didn't ask if she was ok; he didn't need to. Her breathing was deep, a soft shine gleaming from her pale skin when he began to thrust, all the while keeping his fingers carefully trained to the place that caused her to writhe just so. She felt amazing around him, still impossibly tight despite the change in position. And while Freddie knew the new circumstances may have been a tad vanilla to some, he also knew that this way he could hit her in the spot that would make her scream and beg. She just needed a little coaching and guidance.
He was deliberately slow, delivering sharp, hard thrusts in a tangent rhythm with his nimbl...