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The warning would carry more weight if she were not pushing herself into my hand.

“Changed your mind?”

“Not remotely,” she

I guide myself into her.

Her breath catches.

I stop once I am fully inside.

“All right?”

“Yes.”

She draws in a slow breath.

“Move.”

I pull back and thrust into her again.

The angle takes me deeper, and Mandy’s hands tighten against the mattress.

“Like that?”

“Do it again.”

I do.

Then again.

The bed shifts beneath us as I settle into a rhythm, Mandy pushing back to meet me.

Her hair falls across her face.

I gather it in one hand and hold it away.

“Still assessing?”

“Your technique requires further observation.”

“Any early findings?”

“You remain irritating.”

I change the angle and thrust harder.

Her answer turns into a cry.

“Sorry. Didn’t catch that.”

“Smug bastard.”

“That sounded almost affectionate.”

She reaches back and catches my thigh.

“Less commentary.”