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I don’t know if I can hold it, but there’s more, more, more, surging into forbidden places, touching me inside in ways that feel so good it must be wrong.
I feel like I’m doing something dirty. Filthy. Taboo.
And I’m going to need it again and again.
As he starts to pull out, I wrap my legs around his hips and pull him in.
“Not yet,” I plead, finding words at last. “Just let me feel it a second longer.”
August’s brows darken.
He watches me with his jaw fixed in that tight, angry iron.
And he moves, a rippling shudder of power pouring down his tightly sculpted body until I can see every muscle straining against his disarrayed clothing.
A single short, savage jerk.
Burying in me so deep he’s practically grinding into me, forcing into deeper depths, and then—
He hits that one perfect spot.
I scream, completely losing my flipping mind, clenching my thighs against his hips and clutching him so tight.
My fingers dig between his knuckles, and my body thrashes.
And he’s still not done—not by half—because even as I lose it, he keeps perfect control over his movements, twisting and grinding his hips so that instead of pulling out of me, he just teases that spot against my inner walls until there’s something deep within that shivers and trembles and quakes, this pleasure that feels so naked, stripped and exposed.
I don’t know how I’m not coming already.
I don’t want to yet.
I want to hold on to this, to the feeling of August lowering himself down, the feeling of him letting my hands go and wrapping his arms around me, burying his face in my throat, biting cruelly as he fills me with piston thrusts.
Slow.
Slow but violent, gathering his entire strength, pounding me so vengefully but so perfectly.
I’m nearly sobbing at how good this is, riding every deep, rolling thrust, digging my heels into his ass, completely incoherent as I make up for his silence with my cries.
Holy shit, I’m going to—I’m going crazy.
No one’s cock should feel this good.
No one’s cock has any business being this thick, stirring and twisting up my insides until he’s remaking me, I—I—
I thought it was just me, falling apart.
But August drives in harder still.
His teeth sink into my shoulder and hold.
Still no sound, so obsessively silent, and yet he feels so intensely focused on me that it’s unnerving and wonderful. This monster storms halls of pleasure, intent on looting everything from my body.
There’s this wicked swelling inside me, thicker, thicker, and the warm hot jet of molten fire as he comes.
Ruined.
I’m overflowing with him, so thick and hot and filthy that I love it, want it, need it—
