It’s not a release. It’s Armageddon inside me.
My body tenses, my jaw goes slack.
Every nerve pulls into a tight fist,
then spills into liquid heat.
Pleasure tears through me,
in my spine, in my toes, between my legs,
where I throb, where I ache.
I pulse around nothing.
A heartbeat in the wrong place, my body reaching for something that isn’t there.
I feel both full and empty.
I feel like falling,falling,
but never hitting the ground.
Until Andrew pushes two fingers back into my pulsing opening—a deep, aching push.
My climax grips him, sucking him in, and a strangled groan climbs his throat as he drowns in the feel of me.
He pushes my hair back, looks into my eyes,
sinks his finger deeper,
then holds me right there.
And when his thumb barely brushes across my clit, the orgasm hits back harder.
He keeps me riding it, drags me through it.
I’m losing myself. I can’t hold myself up.
He slams me up against the wall,
crushes me there with his body.
My mouth finds his neck.
My teeth sink into his throat,
my moan soaking into his damp, hot skin.
The taste of him melts on my tongue.
When my head falls back against the wall again, he cradles it in his hand, fingers fisting my hair.
His eyes?—
heavy and low-lidded?—
sail across my face.
