“I’ve never had to work so hard to get something I never thought I wanted,” he confesses and the words feather through me and embed themselves in my swelling heart and transparent soul.

How is it possible to feel love this intense when I thought the ability for me had died with Max?

I lean in and express the words my tangled tongue cannot, by pressing my lips to his. “Thank you,” I whisper to him for the many things I don’t even think he could understand even if I told him.

He pulls back and I can’t miss the smirk on his devilishly sexy mouth. He raises and eyebrow at me, amusement in his eyes. “A God in the sack, huh?”

I can’t help the laughter that bubbles up and spills out, not surprised he didn’t forget. “Did I say that?” I tease as I run my fingertips down the ridges of his abdomen. I can feel his thickening arousal pulse beneath me from my touch. “Must have been a slip of the tongue.”

“Oh really?” He asks with a playful grin on his lips, and a look in his eyes that tells me his sated needs are no longer fulfilled. “Tongues are funny things don’t you think?” He leans in and traces my lower lip with his tongue. “They can lick like this,” he whispers. “And they can kiss like this,” he says branding his mouth to mine, his tongue parting my lips and dominating my mouth. He shifts us backwards on the mattress so that his weight presses deliciously on top of me.

He breaks the kiss and the lust in his eyes has desire unfurling in my belly. “And they can lick like this,” he whispers before grazing his way down my neck to tease the tightened bud of my nipple. “They can tease and pleasure like this.” His tongue caresses one then another before trailing down my abdomen at an achingly slow pace. My muscles flex in anticipation as he stops at the top of my sex.

He looks up at me and I catch a flash of grin. “And they most definitely...” He blows against my seam, the heat of his breath feathering over my sensitive flesh. “...love to taste like this.”

His tongue laves over me and my sharp intake of air followed by a soft moan is all I can manage. My words are lost and mind is clouded from the soft slide and adept skill of his tongue.

As he consumes me. Pleasures me. Undoes me.



God, she’s fucking gorgeous. I can’t help but reach out and pull a curl off of her cheek. The feeling—that fucking foreign feeling that’s not so foreign any more—courses through me, grabs me by the balls and then hands them back to me on a platter.