¬ Fashire
"You like this, don't you?" I snarled against her breast, voice ragged.
She shook her head frantically, her teeth sinking into her lower lip.
"Liar." I bit hard on her nipple, earning a sharp cry from her before raising my head to witness the feast beneath me.
I ground harder. She keened.
"I'm not—I don't—"
"Do you like this?" My voice was barely a rasp.
A tiny, broken sound escaped her throat.
I was losing my mind.
I was supposed to be in control. I was supposed to be the one taking her apart. But her sounds. That damned voice!
Every desperate little cry of hers was driving me closer to the edge of my own sanity.
My cock strained against my breeches, hard and aching. I wanted to bury myself inside her. Wanted to feel that impossible tightness wrapped around me instead of my fingers. Wanted to watch her face as I split her open for the first time.
I slipped one finger inside her.
'Fuck. Fuck.'
