Page 63 of Siren Problems
I shrug it off and press her against the wall, kissing her until she gasps.
My hands slide under her shirt, up her spine, memorizing every inch of warm, willing skin.
“Gods, I missed you,” she breathes, fumbling at my belt.
“I couldn’t stay away,” I admit. “Not from you.”
She pulls me down into a kiss so fierce it’s more like a promise, then pushes me back toward the bed.
Clothes fall away—hers, mine—until there’s nothing between us but breath.
She sinks onto the mattress, legs parted, flushed and waiting.
“Come here,” she says, voice thick.
I kneel between her thighs, run my fingers through the slick heat of her pussy, and she moans—head thrown back, eyes glazed.
“You’re soaked,” I murmur, rubbing her slowly. “For me.”
“Always for you.”
I groan, fingers curling inside her. She arches, hips grinding down.
“Don’t tease me,” she begs.
"Never," I reply. Not tonight, at least.
I guide my cock to her entrance, holding her gaze.
“Look at me.”
She does.
And I slowly push in, deep and aching. She gasps, nails digging into my back.
I fill her completely, stretching her walls, and for a moment we just breathe, locked together.
“Fuck, you feel like home,” I rasp.
Her legs wrap around me, urging me in deeper.
I start to move in long, deliberate strokes. Each one saying what I can’t.
She moans into my mouth as I kiss her, her hands sliding to my ass, urging me on.
I give her everything: all the pressure, all the rhythm, all theneed.
“You’re mine,” I growl against her throat.
“Yes,” she gasps. “Yours.”
Her pussy clenches around me, pulling me tighter, and I lose control—thrusting harder, rougher, but she meets every one like a challenge.
“More,” she pleads.
I flip her over, haul her hips up, and take her from behind, gripping her hair, watching her back arch.
“Fuck, Luna,” I growl. “You're so good. So perfect for me.”
