Page 130 of Captive Bride

Because there might not be.

She matches my energy, grabbing me tightly so that she can thrust against me just as hard. Her every movement drives me deeper and deeper into her.

I feel fire racing through me, burning me, consuming me.

No one has ever made me burn the way Isobel does now.

She tightens again around my cock, her moans growing longer and louder. My name finds its way to her mouth, and she screams it repeatedly.

Coming from her lips, it sounds like a prayer.

I pray along in my head:

Isobel.

It’s the only prayer I’ve ever needed to know.

Certainly, if there’s any salvation at all for someone like me, it’s here now. It’s my name on her lips and my cock inside of her.

I’m saved by the grace of her touch.

Her moans turn to screams, her body moving even faster against my own.

Her mouth claims mine in a kiss more passionate than I thought was possible.

We come together, clinging wildly, possessively to one another.

We scream as one, sounds of utter ecstasy, our voices raised so loud it almost drowns out the gunfire.

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