“Delilah cried out, lifting her head. The only truth that mattered right now was how much she needed him. Powerful thighs flexed against her own as he began to move. He reached for her, pulling her up, against his chest, his hands clasping her breasts, mouth open on the back of her neck. He drew hard, pumping up into her relentlessly, meeting her rocking motion back to him. Her head fell back on his shoulder, her own hands latching over his. Their fingers wove together, their bodies moving as if they’d been lovers for years.As if they’d been made for each other.”
“He leaned forward to rub his lips against her collarbone, up her throat, his lips soft, dry, his stubble adding just enough roughness to arouse. She inclined her head, offering, inviting, pleading. He gripped the back of her thighs, pulling her closer, his hands on her ass as he thrust into her, meeting her rhythm, finding their rhythm, the one they’d always been so good at. His hands were familiar on her skin, knew just where to touch. The cadence of his breathing, the taste of his mouth, all brought back how good they’d been together.”
“When they finally left the shed, he reached out to stop her before she headed back to her house. He pulled her close and began to kiss her. First her lips, then her cheek, and then her neck. Her skin was like fire, as if she'd been lying in the sun for hours, and when he kissed her lips again, he felt her fold her body into his. He buried his hands in her hair, continuing to kiss her as he slowly backed her against the wall of the workshop. He loved her, he wanted her, and as they continued to kiss, he could feel her arms moving over his back and shoulders. Her touch was electric against his skin, her breath hot against his, and he felt himself slipping away to a place governed only by his senses.”
“Bryan pressed her closer against him and placed her arms to circle his neck from behind. He moved a little faster and Zahara fell into step, laying her head against his shoulder and closing her eyes to drown out the crowd. She focused on the hard muscles of Bryan’s chest, his heated breath against her hair, and his fingers gripping her waist. She absently wondered if it was wrong that an angel was dancing inside of a club full of youth, and if this was as weird and exhilarating for him as it was for her. Bryan spun her around to face him and kissed her. He wasn’t as gentle as he usually was, digging his hand into her hair and nibbling on her bottom lip. Zahara whimpered and moved her fingers underneath his shirt, digging her fingers into his back. ~Zahara and Bryan”
“Mark.” She fisted her hands in his hair and pulled his mouth to hers, her entire world anchored on his finger. When it slid inside her, she thunked her head back against the door and panted. Then his thumb brushed her in a slow circle.She cried out against his lips, arching into him, yanking his hair. She couldn’t help it. She was going up in flames. He merely pressed her hard to the door, locking her in place. Continuing the torture, he added another finger. She came hard and fast, the power of it sweeping over her like a tidal wave.”
“He lifted his head, lifted her thighs, and plunged into her, deeper, harder than before. He lowered his mouth to the curve of her throat, lips pulling, teeth scraping as he closed his hands over her hips and opened her wider, thrusting deeper. He sat back on his heels and pulled her over him, guiding her, his mouth slamming down on hers, the kiss verging on violent, his fingers tight on her ass and she came again, locking her legs about his hips, holding him deep inside as pleasure rippled through her.”