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“You are my Luna. You love ladybugs and good coffees and weird imported Vietnamese snacks. The beaches in the south of France because they remind you of a school trip you took when you were ten. You love pretty dresses that make me want to rip them off your body. You are kind and sweet and talk too fucking much, and the only thing worse than you talking to me all day is you giving me the silent treatment. You love antagonizing me, making me so frustrated that I don’t know whether I want to strangle you or fuck you. You’re moonshine—crafted by moonlight, reflecting light on the darkest of nights, making me drunk on the tiniest sip. You’re a goddess, and don’t you ever forget that. And I’ve never known anyone in my life like you. I’m going to fuck you bare now, sweetheart. Nod if you’re ready.”
Her eyes flood with trust and dark, dangerous desire, and she bites her lip and nods.
I pull her legs to wrap around my waist, and in one movement, I sink my cock into her all the way.
“Fuck!” My lungs empty with an exhale at the sensations of her tightness around me. “My pussy. Say it.” I relax my hand just enough for her to obey.
“I’m yours. My pussy belongs to you, Kingsley.”
My hand anchors again around her throat as I thrust into her.
Slow.
Languid.
Inch by inch.
Making her feel each one.
Claiming her by giving her everything I have.
She squeezes around me, and my cock throbs so hard, I lose my control over the rhythm, my hips driving into her faster and faster.
“Eyes, Luna.”
They flutter open, and we stare into each other’s pupils as our joint orgasms take over, and she lets out a silent groan as tremors rock her body, vibrating through her and pushing me over the edge.
“Fuck, Luna. God,” I whimper against her neck.
“Kingsley… it’s never been like this with anyone else,” she mutters through mindless pants.
I grunt and bite down on her shoulder until I think I feel my teeth break skin.
“Ow!”
“Sorry. But you deserved that. Now I’m thinking about all the dickheads who’ve touched you and I have to round up and kill.”
She giggles and tightens the circles of her legs around my waist as her arms wrap around my back, pulling me so tight into her it feels like there’s nothing but a single atom-width gap between us.
And it still feels as if she’s too far away.
I was wrong.
She’s my undoing.
But even God won’t be able to put me back together now.
“Thank you, Kingsley,” she whispers, her fingers scratching deliriously over my scalp again. “For reminding me who I am.”
“You’re welcome, moonshine. Thank you for being who you are.”
Thirty
Luna
We spend the nextweek in a bubble.
He's incredibly busy with work but what time he can spend with me is spent either in bed or with me asking him a hundred and one questions about my trust and what I should be doing with it. His patience is unending, and sometimes I even try to throw in a few weird balls in there trying to throw him off, and sometimes he answers them seriously, and sometimes he gives me an answer that is even more off-center than my question.
