"You look gorgeous playing with yourself," he sayid, the compliment as sincere as it is conversational. He scooted himself forward, kneeling between her spread legs, and reached up to slowly, deliberately, pinch one of her breasts, then the other, the pressure slow but ungentle, his gaze almost absent, and very much focused between her legs.

"Oh, yeah," he murmured, almost to himself. "God. I'm going to ride you like a fairground carousel. Fuck."