//CLARA//
I lost count of how many times he took me. The fire died. The room grew cold, and I was too far gone to feel anything but him.
His mouth found my breast, his teeth closing around my nipple hard enough to make me cry out against his shoulder, the sound muffled by his flesh. His hips were pistoning against mine with force that would leave bruises I would treasure in the morning.
"Your cunt is so fucking tight," he growled against my breast, the words filthy and reverent. "Did you touch yourself like this, thinking of me, wishing I was inside you—"
"Yes—"
The admission came on a gasp. He rewarded me with harder thrusts, his hand finding my hip and lifting me, changing the angle until he was hitting that spot with every stroke, until I was sobbing against his neck, my nails scoring his back.
He followed me into the abyss a second later. He buried his face in my hair, his heart echoing the beat against my own.
