Idara
The second my back hit the mattress, his mouth was on mine again, claiming me with the same desperate hunger.
This time, I had nothing left to fight with.
My body wanted him just as fiercely as he wanted me—maybe more.
Reason dissolved completely as his tongue plunged deep, tangling with mine in a wet, consuming dance. I didn’t even register the moment my thighs parted wider, inviting him in, hips tilting up on pure instinct.
His hand trailed a slow, burning path up my inner thigh, deliberate and teasing. The blunt head of him nudged my soaked entrance—just enough to make me whimper into his kiss—then retreated, leaving me aching.
Fingers continued their lazy journey: over my hip, across the trembling plane of my stomach, until he cupped one breast, squeezing firmly, thumb fl
