To be honest, I’m kind of scared that the word slipped out.”I love him for doing a little fist pump after I’ve said that. I love him for sounding so delighted about the whole idea....

Are you fucking kidding me? How do you get this wet? Jesus Christ. Jesus Christ. I don’t even…ohhhhh God. It’s all over your legs. Oh baby, I’m gonna fuck you so hard.

You know it feels good. I can hardly geta…I don’t even…”There was something amusing about watching him trying to form a coherent sen-tence. Amusing, but arousing at the sametime.

Hoh.

You are my home,” she says, real sudden. So sudden he’s sure she’s about to take it back any second—or at least wants to. But no taking back comes. He clings to the words so...

I know,” he says, and it’s the strangest thing. I can tell he’s smiling, slow and syrupy, when he says it.

Oh! Do it again.

Jesus Christ, you’re soaking wet. Seriously, have you been going around with all this between your legs? I can feel it through fucking flannel, honey. Oh my God, I can feel it through flannel,” he...

And there was something both frustrating and maddeningly arousing about that. His restraint made something burn low and deep in her belly, and then his mouth, oh God his mouth. He tasted like cinnamon, again,...

He had lovely eyes, really—not assessing, at all, but big and dark and…waiting.

His voice sounded like molten metal. As if he had something thick at the back of his throat and it was making him sound deeper and richer than he actually was.

I want to kiss you. I want to so badly I can barely think of anything else. When you enter a room it’s my only thought, and it torments me night and day.

Just that one word—sound—sent a strong answering pulse through her body. His tongue curled around syllables that weren’t there, like a promise. This is what you’ll get, if you just let me hear.

All that matters is the way he’s angling my face up to his, thumb and forefinger still on my jaw and my chin. It makes me think of someone taking a drink, only the drink...

He suggested devils, skulls, harsh masculine drawings. This thing was…heart poundingly good. She wanted to pluck it, and bury her face in it, and keep it in a vase by her bedside.

Certainly seems it when she half-turns in his arms and he just leans right down into her and kisses and kisses. Oh, how syrupy-slow his kisses are. She could live in those warm, wet pulls.

You always like this?

Kiss him back? That seemed like a ridiculously unobtainable goal. She’d only just remembered that the word was kiss, for God’s sake. Her eyes were wide and her body had turned to stone and his...

Sometimes I’m so afraid of making the wrong choice that I just don’t make any choice at all.

Oh God Mallory, I can feel you doing it around my cock. I can feel you – that’s it, baby. Fuck yourself on me.

He kisses me until my mouth is sore from his stubble, and most likely cherry red. Then, when he sees its ripe colour, he kisses me more to make up for it. He kisses me...

I would never forbid you. I can’t forbid you. It’s not in my power to, and it never should be.

Because you’re so nuts for this. Aren’t you, huh? You’re so primed. I can feel that hot little pussy clenching around me every time I move a muscle or say a word – ohhhh, yeah....