Page 113 of Crave Me

Her lips part, immediately welcoming me. The kiss is tender, built on longing, but as it deepens, everything we’ve felt: pain, anger, joy, and even hate turns it into something we both need.

Our hands reflect our desire to feel our bare skin connect, surging our passion with each caress. I slip off the straps of her dress, nibbling the spot separating her breasts as I toss her bra aside.

She hauls up her skirt, permitting me to tug her panties aside while she frees my erection.

A deep groan clenches her throat as I grip my staff and lead her down slowly. My weight and hers reclines the chair, keeping us at an angle and allowing me to fill her. She trembles, falling to my lap.

We begin to move, our rhythm increasing with each glide of her hips and lift of my legs.

It’s not about lust, or how incredible she feels as I stroke in and out of her, nor how sweet she tastes or the way her body reacts to my touch.

It’s not even a way to prove our connection.

It’s about us and the love no one can ever rob from us.