I never knew I wanted all this until the whole idea of “my” desires was taken away. It’s like my body and mind have spoken two different languages for my entire life, and Lukas is the first person who’s fluent in both.
He knows me. Feels me. Gets me. Keeps me. His filthy words are like being f****d verbally at the same time as he’s f*****g me physically. When I’m cradled and cared for in every way, how could I not release? How could I not c*m right when he tells me to?
Sure enough, all it takes is one “You’re right there, sweetheart; let go—” and then it hits.
I scream again. My throat is painful from holding it back, but there’s no keeping this one buried. My nails carve fresh ribbons out of his shoulders and neck as I hold on and implode like a dying star.
It’s a surging, burbling he
