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He sucks in a breath as my finger tips trail an invisible line in between my thighs.

I suck in my lower lip, his fingers, no longer needing my guidance, move along, expertly, caressing and moulding the flesh in between my legs.

My hands grip his shoulders for support, and his other hand adjusts my hands on his shoulders, so that I was hugging him.

His other hand stayed under my shirt, or his shirt, squeezing and moulding my skin, moving upwards until he cups my core in the palm of his hand.

I let out a shiver and a breath as he does. He groans into my ear and the sound of it is so arousing, I felt myself clench and unclench in his hand.

“So fucking hot.” He murmurs.

“Does.. does it remind you of inside of your house?” I ask, gasping.

He chuckles, but squeezes me in his palm. I gasp in pleasure.

“It’s hotter than inside my house...” He starts as he pins me between himself and a giant boulder.

“And you know how I feel about hot places.” He say