He looks tired, still recovering, but his dark eyes lock onto me with that familiar hunger that makes my stomach tighten.
I wear only his oversized black t-shirt, the hem brushing the tops of my thighs. No bra or panties. My nipples tighten against the soft fabriv as I move closer and drop into a lower squat right between his spread legs. The positiob n pulls the shirt high up my hips, exposing the curve of my ass and the slick heat between my thighs. I feel exposed, needy, and completely his.
"El…" Zane rasps, his voice rough and low. "Baby, you don't have to. I'm still messed up from the hospital. The wound…"
I cut him off gently, my hands already sliding up his thighs. "I know what the doctors said. But right now, I need this too. I need to take care of you."
I hook my fingers into the waistband of his gray sweatpants, tug them down slowly and hiss cock springs free, thick and heavy, already half-hard and twitching under my gaze.
