Her eyes go dark.
I tie the bandana around her head, gently but firmly, knotting it at the back. The world goes black for her, and every one of her breaths shakes.
“Trust me?” I ask again.
“Always,” she breathes.
I strip her slowly. When she’s naked and trembling in the firelight, I tip the tin cup. The first icy drop lands on her collarbone.
She gasps, arches.
I follow it with my mouth, sucking gently, scraping my beard along the path until she’s writhing.
Drop after drop down the slope of her breast, circling her nipple until it’s a tight, aching peak. I close my mouth over it and suck hard. She cries out, hands flying to my hair.
I catch her wrists, pin them to her sides. “No touching. Just feel.”
Another drop, this time lower, over her ribs, her belly, and the crease where thigh meets hip. I lick every trail clean, slow and thorough, until she’s begging in broken whispers.
When I finally drip the melted snow right onto her clit, she screams, her hips bucking off the couch. I pin her thighs wide and lick her clean, tongue flicking, circling, relentless.
She comes so hard her whole body locks up, thighs shaking around my ears, my name a sob. She’s boneless, trembling, thighs slick, chest heaving.
I strip fast, shirt and sweatpants gone in two rough jerks. My cock is already aching, leaking, so hard it hurts. The firelight paints her skin gold and rose, every curve glowing, every mark I left on her shining like badges.
I crawl over her, brace on one forearm beside her head, and use my free hand to drag the head of my cock through her soaked folds. She jolts, a broken sound catching in her throat.
“Still with me, Vixen?” I rasp.
She nods frantically, hips tilting up, chasing friction. “Please, Flynn… need you inside me.”
I notch myself at her entrance and push in, one long, slow glide that steals both our breath. She’s impossibly hot, impossibly tight, clenching around me like she’s trying to pull me deeper, keep me forever. I bottom out and have to stop, forehead pressed to hers, teeth gritted so hard my jaw aches.
“Fuck,” I groan. “You feel like heaven.”
The blindfold hides her eyes, but her mouth is open, lips swollen, little gasps puffing against my cheek with every tiny shift of my hips.
I start to move, slow, deep, deliberate strokes that drag over every sensitive spot inside her. The wet sound of us is obscene, perfect, mixing with the crackle of the fire and the windscreaming outside. Every time I pull almost all the way out, she whimpers. Every time I sink back into the hilt, she sighs my name.
I hook one of her knees over my elbow, opening her wider, changing the angle until she cries out. “There?” I growl.
“Yes, yes, right there, don’t stop—”
I don’t. I fuck her relentlessly, grinding against her clit on every downstroke. Her whole body starts to shake again, thighs quivering, breath hitching. I can feel her fluttering around me, that tell-tale pulse that means she’s close.
I slide my hand between us, thumb finding her swollen clit, rubbing tight circles exactly how she likes. She arches so hard that only her shoulders and heels touch the mattress.
“Come for me, baby,” I order against her mouth. “Let me feel my wife come all over my cock.”
The word wife undoes her.
She comes with a shattered cry, pussy clamping down so hard my vision whites out. I slam home one last time and let go, spilling deep inside her in thick, pulsing waves, groaning her name like a prayer. The pleasure is so intense, my arms nearly give out. I barely catch myself before I crush her.
We stay locked together, breathing ragged, sweat cooling on our skin. I reach up and finally tug the blindfold free. Her eyes are glassy, wet, utterly wrecked, and so full of something that looks dangerously like love, it steals whatever air I have left.
When I finally pull out, she makes a soft, protesting sound and tries to keep me inside with her legs. I chuckle, low and wrecked, and collapse beside her, dragging her into my chest.
Her fingers find the dog tags I still wear, tracing the raised letters of my name like she’s reading braille.
