He pulled both breasts together.
His mouth covered both nipples simultaneously — the press of his lips against the valley where they were pushed together, his tongue finding first one then the other in rapid alternation. She cried out. Her head went back against the stone arch. The tears were running freely. Her legs were spread across his lap. Her skirt was up around her thighs.
He pulled back.
He looked at her.
Her face was wet. Her breasts were exposed in the moonlight. Her nipples were swollen from his mouth. Her dress was bunched at her thighs. Her hips had stopped grinding because she had become aware of herself and had made herself stop and now her whole body was trembling with the effort of stillness.
His hand moved under her skirt.
She felt his fingers against the inside of her thigh. Moving upward. She grabbed his wrist.
"Wait—" she said.
