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I’m a raw nerve, my thighs around his hips, my nails deep in his back, silent but screaming with my touch and the rake of my nails, with the grip of my knees and the arch of my body.
Too sensitive.
Too good.
Too much, too hot, too hard, too large.
I can’t contain this man to save my life, and he can’t contain me.
And when I burst with my pussy tightening around him, greedily drawing his pleasure out, quaking until I can’t, I’m more than combusting fireworks.
I’m an entire supernova, washing brightly over the sky.
And he’s my entire night that makes my light shine that much brighter, clutching me against him as I burn without mercy.
His heat locks my entire body up in throes of pleasure like nothing else I’ve ever had.
He’s tense against me, breathing hard, his darkness chasing me, and then he throws his head back with a roar.
I feel his cock swell, right before he turns into that shudder, that animal growl, that eruption that tells me he’s breaking and marking me from the inside out.
We burn together all night long, only stopping to catch our breath, an entire galaxy of hearts and flesh on fire.
In the wee hours of the morning, I can barely move.
The first time was rougher, but this wore me out so much more when it was so emotional, so sweetly draining.
I’m a limp dishrag draped against him, idly drawing patterns on his chest with my fingertip, making his chest hair swirl.
Until his arm tightens around my waist—he’s holding me, instead of pushing me away, at ease and lazy and so wonderfully relaxed—and his other hand comes up to catch mine, stopping me.
“Don’t make me bite you again,” he rumbles, and I love to hear it. No tension or doubt because yeah, I’m still scared he’ll realize his mistake any moment now and turn on the deep freeze. “Stop that. It tickles.”
“I’m not sorry.” I snicker and curl my fingers in his, nuzzling his shoulder.
“No, you wouldn’t be. Wretch.” August yawns, cracking one eye open, watching me before he kisses the top of my head. “Go to sleep. We still have work. And I know you’ll try to drag me out of bed with the sunrise.”
I giggle because it’s true, almost giddy with happiness.
I’d never expected to find this happy place with August.
A place where he can relax, tease me, accept me.
Where he tells me I drive him crazy and because I do—and where maybe we can have a chance.
Maybe these giddy feelings don’t have to die with the sunrise.
I turn my face into his shoulder to hide my smile. “Fine, fine. Good night, Gruffykins.”
“Good night, brat.”
I snicker, fumbling for the covers and dragging them up.
Now that the sweat is cooling, it’s cold with the doors still open. But after a moment I crack one eye open, peeking at him.
“August?”
“Hm?”
