our clothes. Our kisses turned messy, incapable of parting for air. We rolled across the mattress, moaning, hips grinding, wanting to fuck so badly. I was a starved animal, freed from my cage, and she was the sin racing through my veins.
But I forced myself to slow and take my time. With my lips and hands on her delectable body, I taught her what it meant to be worshiped by a fallen priest.
For the next hour, I memorized her. The image of her underneath me spun my breathing out of sync. She was stunning, beautiful, so goddamn perfect I wanted to spend the rest of my life at her feet in devotion. As I kissed and caressed her beauty, I was all instinct and emotion, desperate to have her. Not just her body. I was desperate for her love and long-term happiness.
Since the night we’d met, I’d been involved with her on a level that transcended every professional, emotional, and physical relationship I’d ever had. It began with our first interaction, involving a bat. Four months later, my attachment to her was vibrantly alive and demanding. I was committed. Dedicated. It would terrify her if she knew how invested I was in our bond.
As I licked her pussy through her third orgasm, I felt her rapture as if it were my own. I tasted her exploding across my tongue, saw galaxies, and felt the spitting sparks of her aftershocks.
Oh, merciful God. I could do this all night, wrenching cries out of her while feeding upon the sweetest, most perfect dream.
My pulse tightened. I couldn’t stop my pelvis from humping the bed. She had me so turned on I couldn’t think straight.
Tracing the lines of her ribs, I crawled up her hot, little figure and plumped both breasts, weighing them in my palms, thumbs flicking the tips.
“You’re flawless.” I covered her with my body and sucked on her tongue. “Unreasonably so. You were made for me.”
“Then stop teasing and fuck me.” Her lust-heavy eyes flared bright, and a kitten growl chuffed past her lips. “I’m fucking dying here.”
The impatient sound was so Tinsley. Always trying to take the reins—literally with her hands on my ass, pulling me tighter between her legs.
She had no idea how thoroughly and savagely I was going to fuck her tonight.
“You’re not in charge.” I braced my arms over her head, surrounding her, denying her my cock.
Mouths inches apart, we shared eye contact, heartbeats, and air. Our bond charged through us like an electric pull, our lips unable to bide the distance. We kissed, hot and deep, each touch of our tongues producing a sonic boom of sensation—always too much and never enough. We gasped together. We rocked together. And I died. And consumed. And died again. The perfect consumption and the death of consciousness.
Before Tinsley, I rarely kissed. I never enjoyed it. But this was an expression of our intimacy. With her tongue stroking in and out of my mouth, beckoning me, I gave her sharp flicks of mine, opening my jaw wider, clasping her head, turning her at will, and controlling how deeply I fucked her with my tongue.
Eventually, I ceased the torture and notched the head of my erection against her drenched pussy.
“I’m going to fuck you raw.” My heart stuttered as I fisted her hair, angling her to look deep into my eyes. “I won’t stop until I physically can’t fuck, and with you, my stamina is endless.”
“Do it.” She kicked her hips and went after my mouth, feeding me her tongue.
Kissing her feverishly, I gave her slit a few teasing swipes with my cock. Then I thrust, encasing the full length of my shaft in her greedy heat.
Time halted. Neither of us breathed. Impaled to the hilt, I held myself still, savoring the delicious feel of her before expelling a harsh noise, withdrawing, and pounding deep, over and over, establishing a rhythm.
“Oh, fuck.” My face found her neck, my lips licking and kissing.
The saturation of her moans aroused me as effectively as the tight clasp of her body. She was my addiction, my obsession, and as my hips rolled, so did hers, meeting me thrust for thrust.
“Fuck my cock.” I gripped her waist, lost in the fantasy. “You’re so fucking wet for me, grinding that hungry little pussy, trying to get more friction.”
She was tiny everywhere, and I filled her to capacity. There was no room to think, not a sliver of space or time to consider the wrongs. Too late for