Only her.
My love.
My forever.
My everything.
My life.
I start with her beautiful breasts, letting my lips brush over the lace of her bra. Her nipples are hard peaks beneath the delicate fabric, and I can’t resist drawing one into my mouth. The lace is a tease, soft against my tongue as I suck gently, then harder, drawing a gasp from her lips. Her back arches, and her fingers twist tightly in my hair, urging me closer, demanding more.
My mouth doesn’t stop. I kiss my way across her chest, worshiping every curve, before trailing lower. My tongue flicks over her belly button, and she shivers, her soft moan sending a pulse of heat straight through me. I let my lips linger there for a moment before trailing back up, tasting her, memorizing her.
Her moans grow breathy, urgent, as she clutches the back of my neck, her nails digging into my skin just enough to make my pulse quicken. I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against me as my free hand cups her breast. My thumb flicks over her nipple, drawing another sharp intake of breath, and I can’t help but grin against her skin.
I bury my face between her breasts, inhaling her scent, letting it drown out everything else. It’s intoxicating—a mix of something floral and uniquely her. My hands trace the curve of her waist, sliding over her hips with a reverence I can’tcontrol. Her skin is soft, warm, and alive beneath my fingers, more perfect than I could have imagined. Every sigh, every tiny movement she makes pulls me deeper into her, binding me to this moment.
She’s absolute perfection.
“I want to fuck your tits,” I rasp against her skin, my voice raw and low. Her breath catches sharply, and before I can stop myself, I add, “Mark you.”
Her gasp is soft, but the sound shoots straight through me. “Do you want that?” I ask, my lips brushing her nipple as I speak. “Or tell me—what do you want?”
Her response is wordless, a whimper that sends a shiver down my spine. I take her nipple into my mouth again, suckling until her back arches and her fingers clutch at my hair, holding me to her. The lace of her bra barely registers as my tongue teases her, drawing slow, deliberate circles that make her tremble. She moans, her hips shifting, her need as palpable as mine.
My free hand moves lower, trailing down her stomach, pausing just at the edge of her panties. She’s already warm, her body radiating heat that I can feel even through the fabric. My fingers slip beneath, seeking, searching until I find the slick heat of her center.
Her breath hitches sharply, her moans turning into something softer, breathier. My thumb brushes over her clit, and she shudders, her nails digging into my scalp. Her hips roll against my hand, chasing the rhythm I set, and the sound she makes—a desperate, aching moan—nearly undoes me.
I want to push her further, to feel her completely unravel in my arms, to make her forget the world as much as I already have. She’s all I see, all I feel, all I need.
“Yes, fuck me with your hand,” she begs, her voice breathless, needy. “Lick me.”
Her words send a jolt straight through me, and I growl softly against her neck. “Such a good girl,” I murmur, my lips brushing her skin. “Telling me exactly what you want.”
I lift her into my arms, her legs wrapping instinctively around my waist as I carry her to the couch. Lowering her onto the cushions, I reach behind her and unhook her bra, my fingers deft and deliberate. The straps fall away, and her breasts spill free, soft and perfect, rising and falling with her quickened breaths.
“Fuck, look at you,” I whisper, my voice thick with desire as I take her in. “So beautiful. So mine.”
I can’t help myself. I lower my head, capturing one of her nipples between my lips, sucking gently at first and then harder when her moan fills the air. My hand slides down her stomach, slipping between her thighs again. She’s hot, wet, and ready, and I revel in the way her body reacts to every touch, every flick of my tongue or press of my fingers.
But it’s not enough. It’ll never be enough.
I pull back just enough to meet her eyes, my voice a low growl. “You want more, don’t you?”
“Yes,” she breathes, her lips trembling as she looks at me.
I grab her breasts, molding them around my cock, and the way she gasps is enough to drive me wild. Slowly, I thrust between them, the slick warmth of her skin sending fire through my veins.
“Look at you,” I say, my voice rough and filled with praise. “Taking me like this, being so fucking perfect for me.” Her hands press against her breasts, squeezing them tighter around me as I move. “You’re so good, Pia. So damn good.”
She moans, her hips shifting against the couch, her body begging for more even as I lose myself in the sight of her, the feel of her.
“You make me lose control,” I admit, the words slipping out as I thrust harder. “You’re everything.”
Her gaze locks with mine, her lips parted and trembling as a shudder ripples through her body. “Haydn,” she whispers, my name barely audible, yet it cuts through the air with sharp need. It’s not just a request, it’s a demand, a plea that consumes me. “Fuck me, Haydn. I need you inside me.”
I take a steadying breath, letting her words sink in, feeling the weight of her trust in me. “I’ve got you,” I murmur, brushing a strand of hair away from her flushed face. “I’m going to take care of you.”
