He huffs a wrecked laugh.
“You need my voice in your ear?”
He exhales hard through his nose,
trying to keep it together.
“Shit, Sonny—‘m this close to losin’ it…
“But yeah. I got you.”
His grip on my thigh tightens,
and he pulls me into him—hips catching.
Then that hand wanders higher
until his fingertips graze my opening.
He drags over it slow,
circling heavy, pressing, owning—his.
In his other hand,
the attention on my clit never stalls,
a finger wrapped around the nerve,
curling up like he's pulling me in.
Then his head falls to the side of my head,
body sinking into mine,
only melting when we’re together.
Then his voice slips in?—
singing the song playing downstairs,
soft enough to live only in my ear.
A voice insanely intimate,
with breath-tinged edges.
A voice with a late-night rasp,
enough to make it hurt.
And then?—
at the very end of each note?—
it cracks.
And it ruins me.
