“But I want to watch you watch yourself,” I tell him, smiling and shooting him a wink when he looks over his shoulder. Our eyes lock and I press my middle finger into him, sliding it in to the knuckle. “Imagine how pink you’d get.”

After moving my finger in and out a few times, I replace it with two and hum at the tight stretch of him. I have to think of awful things to keep from getting too turned on, like that time that I accidentally walked in on Mafalda naked, and I take a deep, steadying breath.

“Do you need another, darling?” I ask in a low voice, sliding my free hand across his lower back as I press my fingers very deliberately against his prostate. “Or are you ready?”