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“Get this off your body. I need it off.” The bottom of her shirt is taken from my fingers as she lifts the shirt over her head.
Once it’s off, I see her tits.
Fuck, she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath.
Vio is almost completely naked in front of me. Only her panties stay intact, and I can’t wait to rip them off.
“Fuck, they’re perfect.” My gaze is on her breasts.
Her nipples are a rosy pink and the need to wrap my lips around them makes me forget my own name. I kiss around her areola, teasing her slightly.
A breathy moan leaves her lips as my mouth moves to her other tit and my eyes keep watching her reaction to everything I’m doing.
I want her to love every single touch, to the point that it’s engraved in her skin. My name will be the only name that will leave her lips for the rest of time.
Once I’m satisfied with the light teasing, I lick her nipple before wrapping my mouth around the bud completely.
She grabs my hair immediately.
I love how they pull as I continue my assault.
Sucking and biting them lightly, I plan on making every part of her vulnerable.
Even her mind and especially her soul.
“Holy fuuuu—” she says in almost a whisper.
I stop. “When you’re with me, you let down all your inhibitions. I don’t want you to censor a single one of those profanities I want to hear so badly. Let go, completely and utterly in the feeling.”
“Okay.”
I can see her walls break down in her gaze.
My lips move from her breasts to her collarbone and then to her neck. I attempt to find her sweet spot; I go slowly from left to right.
“Fuck.”
Found it.
I suck on the spot until I know it’s going to leave a mark. Apparently, I’m a caveman when it comes to her. Most times when I have sex, I know how to get a girl off, but I don’t like leaving marks, especially with the experience I’ve had with women not liking it.
With Vio, I don’t really care. I want people to see the way I made her feel even if they don’t know it’s me.
Pain shoots up to my heart at the thought.
We’re doing this behind closed doors. I can’t hold her hand in public or even kiss her when I want.
I hate it—no, I loathe it.
At least the men I see ogling her from time to time will see she’s occupied.
This is ours, just like that kiss. It is completely and irrevocably ours to share.
I’m going to make the most of this because losing myself in her will end up becoming an addiction. One I won’t know how to face but might keep taking.
I’m going to have to reevaluate my life because this is already an addiction, one I can’t stop injecting myself with.
I kiss her lips.
