It comes out hot.
Destroyed.
His voice drops into raspy.
“I don’t—Yeah. Okay.”
A broken laugh leaves him.
Then his finger drags back through me.
He bows his head,
pressing his weight into me,
breath coarse.
His callused finger glides up,
drawing heavy circles over my clit.
A throbbing flame spirals through me.
A slow-building heat wave.
Another sound cracks out of me?—
too delicate to be a sob, too broken to be a sigh.
I fist his pants at the back of his thigh,
nails digging in, desperate for more.
I’m convinced if I let go, he’ll disappear,
and this moment’ll slip through my fingers.
“Fuck—” I groan, looking back at him.
“How do you know my body?
“And why you usin’ it against me?”
When the words escape,
they’re just above a whisper.
His mouth falls to my collarbone,
his breath hot against my skin.
“Same way your body knows me.”
He says it so simply, as if it didn’t make my heart fucking weep. My next breath loses its balance and skids across my lips.
He notices,
presses a wet kiss against my temple.
