The sounds she made were obscene, a symphony of gasps, moans, and my name chanted like a prayer.
“Oh, shit… right there… don’t stop… Easton, please don’t stop…”
I didn’t. I sucked her clit into my mouth, applying steady, relentless pressure while my tongue flicked across the sensitive bundle of nerves. Her inner muscles clenched around nothing, seeking and desperate, so I slid two fingers inside her, curled them, and found the sweet spot deep within.
“That’s it,” I growled against her, the vibration making her scream. “Come on my face, Aura. Let go. I’ve got you. I’ll always fucking have you.”
It was the final push she needed.
Her orgasm tore through her with a violence beautiful enough to behold. Her back bowed from the mattress, a raw, shattered cry ripping from her throat as she convulsed around my fingers. I rode her through it, my mouth gentler now as I lapped at her while the waves subsided and swallowed every final tremor.
When she went limp, boneless and panting, I crawled back up her body, kissing her stomach, ribs, the valley between her breasts, her collarbone, and her jaw before claiming her mouth again and letting her taste herself on my lips.
She kissed me back, lazy and sated, with both hands framing my face. “You’re… insatiable.”
“For you?”
I reached toward the nightstand and grabbed a condom, tearing it open with my teeth.
“Always.”
She took it from me, her movements slow and deliberate as she rolled it down my length, her touch so sure it made my vision blur. When she finished, she looked up at me, her eyes clear, dark, and utterly focused.
“Now,” she said, her voice husky. “Fuck me. And say my name.”
I needed no further invitation.
I positioned myself at her entrance, the head of my cock nudging against her soaked, swollen flesh, then pushed inside slowly, one inch at a time, letting her body stretch and accommodate me. She was so tight, impossibly hot and wet from her climax, and she felt like heaven.
She felt like home.
When I was fully sheathed, I stilled and lowered my forehead against hers. We breathed the same air while her eyes stayed wide and locked on mine.
“Aura,” I said, and her name was a vow inside the quiet room.
I began to move at a deep, measured, powerful pace, each thrust a claiming and every withdrawal a promise to return. The bed creaked in a steady rhythm beneath us as our skin slapped together, wet and carnal, driving me higher.
I braced myself on one forearm while my other hand tangled in her hair, keeping her face turned toward mine because I wanted to see everything, every flicker of pleasure and every surrender.
“Look at you,” I rasped, driving my hips into her again and again. “Taking me so deep. Your pussy was made for my cock. Fuck, look how you squeeze me. You’re milking me, baby. Gonna make me come so hard, I wish I was bare inside you.”
“Yes,” she moaned, her nails scoring down my back. “Yes, Easton. Give it to me.”
I slid one hand between us and gripped my base before pulling out of her in one smooth, wet withdrawal. The condom came off with a rough, efficient tear of latex, and I tossed it aside without taking my eyes from hers, watching her breath catch when she realized what I was doing.
Then I slammed back inside her bare.
A guttural, punched-out groan tore from my chest. “Fuck. Fuck, Aura.”
The feeling was obscene and blistering. She was so hot, a wet velvet vise clenching around me, so fucking tight I saw stars. The difference was night and day, with no barrier between us, only her raw, desperate heat swallowing me whole.
I had only had her bare once before, our first time, and I had never allowed myself to savor the fucking memory.
“That’s it,” I snarled, dropping my forehead against hers while my hips pistoned into her with new, primal desperation. “That’s how we feel. That’s how we should always feel. You’re perfect. So fucking perfect for me.”
“Tell me you feel this—tell me I’m not crazy,” I demanded, my thrusts becoming harder and less controlled.
“Yes!”
