"Fuck… shit…" Damien cursed again. "I want to be inside you," he groaned. "I swear, I want to be inside you so bad, but—gods—you feel so damned good."
She didn't respond with words. Her tongue did the talking.
He was seconds away from tipping over the edge. Everything was too hot. Too much. Her mouth, her skin, her laughter in his head, the way her heart called to him without speaking. It was all crashing in.
Damien pulled away abruptly, his whole body quaking with restraint. "I'm going to lose my shit," he warned.
Luna smirked, breathless, her body flushed and still glistening. "That's kind of the point, isn't it?"
He shimmied down her body. His breath ghosted over her belly before he paused, lifting her thighs and locking them over his shoulders. She gasped at the sudden motion, her back sinking deeper into the sofa. Damien positioned himself, one hand steadying her hip while the other guided him in.
Then—he entered.
