~Lyra~

“I want your tongue to forget what air tastes like because it only remembers me. My skin. My pussy. My fucking sweat on your tongue. I want you to wake up starving for it. Thirsty for it. I want you to crawl across the bed just to bury your face in me like you can’t breathe without it.”

He growled again.

I felt the sound before I heard it. It rumbled from his chest and poured through me like thunder.

And then—his voice.

Low. Ruined. Husky enough to make ...