Her face — his eyes found it in the moonlight.
The 'igo' expression. That completely-gone face. Eyes rolled and glistening, mouth open and wet, tears and saliva both, cheeks flushed dark — not the face of a woman experiencing pleasure. The face of a woman whose body had been 'ridden past its own definitions' and simply stopped making decisions about whether this was pain or ecstasy.
Both. It was both.
And she was 'leaking everywhere.'
Viktor leaned down without breaking rhythm, mouth finding her breast, and 'sucked'.
Hard. The way a starving man drinks. Lips locked around the dark nipple, tongue flat against it, pulling deliberately until a thin, warm, sweet stream of her milk flooded his mouth, and he swallowed it without ceremony like it was his due.
'He's drinking me—'
She came.
