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I kiss down her belly, that little landing strip, her right inner thigh.
I draw it out until she’s clutching the sheets, holding on so she doesn’t go airborne.
“Shepherd, Shepherd...”
My name floats off her lips again and again like a prayer.
When I know she’s desperate, when I know she’s red and seething and about to pass out if I hold back, that’s when I answer.
My mouth finds her pussy and I eat her like my last meal.
This tongue delves deep, drags her to the edge, and then moves to her clit for the grand finale.
And what a fine fucking send-off it is.
Come for me, sweetheart.
Make that pussy scream.
It’s the most beautiful orgasm I’ve ever witnessed.
Her clenching, shaking, whimpering, coming apart, hair lashing like gold ribbons as the pleasure pulls her under.
Destiny Lancaster comes like she’ll never be the same after my tongue, and I’m proud as hell of that.
She’s barely breathing again, falling into my next kiss, tasting herself on my lips, when I can’t hold back.
I only wait until her eyes are on me before I push inside her, bottoming out in one long stroke.
Fuck, it’s too perfect.
We’ve done this enough, so I know the rhythm of her body and the tempo of her pulse.
I know all the right angles.
I know I need to come inside her, coming on me, if it’s the last goddamned thing I do.
She’s so close, and so am I.
Pressing my fingers against her clit, we go hard while I stroke slow circles, thrusting like a surging river.
“Oh, Shepherd, Shepherd. Fuck!” she murmurs.
Her eyes flutter shut.
“No, baby. Look at me.”
Be with me, I want to say.
But I don’t, not even in the heat of this, because I don’t know what she’ll think that means and honestly, I don’t know myself.
Her eyelids flutter. “So. Close.”
“Then go.” My breath falls against her cheek like a desert breeze.
I need—need—to see her come undone, before my balls lose it.
This is the last fucking time we’ll do this.
