By now, it had become so easy to just melt in his arms, without question or doubt. His lips knew where to kiss me, how to kiss me, and his fingers slid against my skin as if they had done it a thousand times. He pinned my hand down to the bed.
We moved slowly, quietly—bare skin to bare skin. He was slow, as if cherishing every moment, and his kisses traced every scar, small or big, on my skin.
“I want to know every story,” he said as he kissed me.
Breathless, I was unable to reply as I arched my back, giving in to him completely.
The ecstasy climbed through me slowly as he slid inside of me, kissing me raw and slow. He didn't stop—every move of his was measured and controlled. He held me like I was the one who had been shot as he thrust, as if time had stopped for us. I moved to meet h
