It was all Molly could do to not cry out when he rolled away to strip off that final layer of material. The cold air between them was almost unbearable and she reached for him greedily when he rolled back, shifting closer, legs parting for him as his fingers found her again, pressing into her gently at first, shallow and teasing until he went deeper on a push and they both moaned.

They were kissing messily, more drags of mouths than proper kisses because they were both too wrapped up in what they were experiencing. He was making low, cutoff grunts of sound, quiet but intensely sexual and they sent a shock wave of what he was feeling through Molly as he made each one.

Molly was already rolling her hips with the rhythm of his fingers, she couldn't help herself, chasing the way he rubbed her clit, finger pressed inside her, deeper thrusts that she felt curling her toes, the low ache of her orgasm starting to build in her stomach. He was pressed tight to her side, hot, hard cock rubbing through its own slick at her hip and Molly wanted desperately to touch him, bring him the sort of pleasure he was bringing her. She couldn't stop the images from playing through her mind, having him come apart in her hand, watching as he did. She needed it and it felt like Will wanted it too.

Molly made a needy sound and covered his hand with hers, shuffling away a little only to roll back to face him, closer together, his hand still between her thighs, finger still buried in the heat of her. She swallowed and reached down between them, letting her fingers find him, trailing over the length of his cock, wrapping gently around him, kissing him hungrily as she rocked her hips and tried a tentative stroke.