She feels vulnerable now that he can see all of her—touch all of her. No one has ever done this to her before, seen her like this. Her shyness flickers at the thought of being on full display to him, but then he tells her not to be scared, and just like that, it burns away. "Scared? I'm not fucking scared of shit," she scoffs, slipping her thumbs into his waistband. She tugs the fabric down and lets her hand wander lower, exploring him.

Her back arches into his touch, body squirming beneath him. Her free hand grips his arm, nails digging into his skin. The teasing is nice—there’s no denying that. The way he tends to her body makes her stomach twist, pressure building up inside.

"It's not that — I don't know how long I can last." The words are unsteady, her breathing quick and uneven. She feels flustered, already leaking, but she can’t help it. Having someone else touch her like this is so different from doing it herself, and it's taking everything in her not to come undone too soon.