Wren
Music.
Whiskey.
The crowd.
Ezra’s scent…his hands…his lips…his length.
All my senses are on fire, nerve ending stretching to the surface.
My pulse quickens, our lips devouring each other’s, nipping, biting, sucking. I feel heady, dizzy…
I’m drowning in this man, and I don’t want to come up for air.
“Oh f**k, birdie.” His voice is rough, hoarse.
He kisses the thundering pulse in my neck, fingers skimming up my thighs and under my dress.
My knees tremble, eyes pinched shut.
He’s so hard. I can feel him poking me, his hips grinding against me.
Suddenly, he backs away. When I turn to him, he tugs me by the hand towards a darkened corner.
“We can’t be caught,” he murmurs.
He kisses me again, pulling us further into the dark until my back hits the wall. My hands are already tu
