Eyes a boundless sea that shimmered in the night.
She pulled down the zipper and let her shorts drop to her feet, slipping out of her flip-flops at the same time.
Lust pounded through my bloodstream as I stared at her standing there. Clad in nothing but that white tank and a scrap of silky white underwear.
Legs toned and bare.
A growl rolled up my throat, and my cock pressed painfully at my jeans.
“Look at you,” I grumbled. So low it curled the air like vapor and vibrated against the walls. “Paradise smack in the middle of Hell.”
“That’s what it feels like when I’m with you.” Her confession wisped through the room, stoking the flames higher. “Like I’m lifted from the torture I’ve been living.”
“Get on the bed.” My teeth ground as I issued the command. My hands in fists as I attempted to maintain control. But I apparently had none when it came to her. No restraint when she released a needy sound.
She fumbled the rest of the way across the room and crawled backward onto the mattress. Those eyes were pinned on me the whole time.
Eating me alive and searing me through.
Her chest heaved as she edged back on the bed until she had pushed herself against a pile of pillows on the headboard, though she kept herself propped up on her hands.
A fucking angel in the middle of the mayhem.
Grace in the torment.
A flower blossoming in the middle of the night.
What a bastard that I wanted to taint that. Score myself all over her until she could only bud for me.
Her legs were barely bent at the knees, one drawn up a fraction higher and pressing into the other. Shaking and shaking while my body silently raged from across the room.
“Take me away, Cash. Take me away, just for a little while.”
Possession wound through me, this thing I could give her when all other ordinance was fading away.
“Spread those pretty legs. Want to see how wet you are for me.”
A gasp ripped from her, uncontrolled need rushing through her delicate frame as she slowly drew her feet up and planted them on the mattress.
So fucking slow.
Teasing me into lawlessness.
Then she dropped her knees until they were open wide.
That scrap of silk barely covered the temptation underneath. Her arousal seeping through and nearly sending me into a spiral.
A growl prowled my chest.
“Are you soaked, Little Wallflower? Dripping because you want me to send you soaring again?”
Her head tipped back with a moan, the tips of her hair brushing the bed below her and her chest arching out.
Those tits strained so hard at the fabric I could see the sweet, enticing peaks.
“Yes,” she whispered, those legs somehow dropping further. “I was so scared. So scared. I don’t want to feel that right now.”
“What is it you want to feel?”
