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I want her ruined in the best way.
I drag my mouth higher, taking my time because I’ve waited too long to rush this. The first taste of her on my tongue punches through me. Heat. Need. Clair.
I tighten my grip on her thighs.
Hot damn.
I could die right here and consider it a decent ending.
Her head falls back against a box of clothes. “Oh, fuck.”
The words tear out of her, rough and perfect, and I lose another piece of myself.
I keep going, learning her the way I learned everything else about her. What makes her hips jerk. What makes her hands scramble against the truck bed. What makes her thighs tighten around my shoulders like she can’t decide whether to pull me closer or survive me.
The stars are the only witnesses, and even they can mind their business.
Her hand dives into my hair, fingers gripping hard when I find the spot that makes her whole body arch. I lap at her slowly, then faster, following every sharp inhale, every tremble, every broken sound that slips out of her. Her body opens around me, slick and perfect, and my cock throbs so hard it borders on pain.
I curl my fingers, searching.
Her cry tells me when I find it.
I stroke that spot again, tongue working over her, pumping deeper as her hips start to move against my mouth. My other hand spreads across her stomach, holding her steady while she writhes, while she takes this, while she lets herself have it.
I can’t tell her how beautiful she is like this. Can’t tell her how badly I need her, how long I’ve needed her, how I would crawl through the end of the world again if it brought me back here.
So I show her.
With my mouth. My hands. Every second I spend between her thighs.
Her moans turn shaky, then sharp. Her heels dig into my back, her thighs closing around my ears as she trembles beneath me. I give her more when her body begs for it.
Come for me, baby.
“Leon, fuck.”
Her body bows off the truck bed, caught between pulling away and dragging me closer. I hold her through it, drawing out the last tremors until she’s panting, cries spilling from her lips as tears gather at the corners of her eyes.
Only then do I pull away.
She shudders at the loss, and I rise to my feet, looking down at this beautiful siren. Wrecked. Gorgeous. Mine because she wants to be.
Her eyes open, hazy and dark, locking on mine. Then she reaches for my hand, the one still slick from her, and pulls my hand to her mouth.
My whole body goes rigid.
She sucks each finger clean, eyes never leaving mine, tongue sliding between the crevices with a soft moan.
Holy hell.
My cock throbs hard enough to hurt.
When my fingers slip from her mouth, she leans up and wraps her arms around my neck, pulling me down. Her lips hover over mine.
“That was . . .”
She doesn’t finish.
