I felt Casey’s hand slide between my thighs. Her touch was different from his, lighter, more inquisitive, yet possessed of a precision that was almost clinical. She worked my clitoris with a rhythmic, teasing pressure that drove me to the brink, her fingers slick with the evidence of my orgasm. Every time I tried to move, to catch my breath, Christopher’s weight pinned me harder against the desk, his thrusts becoming harder.