Innuendo. Crystal Green

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      “Good.” With every subtle thrust of his thumb, he watched her, as if entranced by the show. “I’m just going to go ahead and think that they’re all mine, then.”

      At least for tonight, she thought. They didn’t need to clarify that. Didn’t have to make promises about the future when this was enough for now.

      Beats of a building hunger slammed through her, faster, harder. He circled with more intensity, wedging his arm behind her head so it didn’t knock against the wall with every push.

      Then, kissing her again, he used his tongue to accentuate and echo the drives of his thumb, the gyrations of her hips.

      She clung to him for life and sanity. And bit by bit the sharp anguish between her legs expanded, heated, grew until it ate away at every inch of her.

      When she came, it was in tearing doses, one climax, two, wave upon wave of pounding release and quiet fury. She groaned into his neck with each blow until she was done.