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Glory Box III
Staring down at the woman who laid across the table eagerly like a prize to be claimed, he bent over her. Took her wrists in his hands. Drove himself inside of her. Sighed as she released a breath that twisted itself into a deviant groan.
With a gaze that would have made a nun strip and lay out spread-eagle, Vincent drew his mouth nearer to Blue’s, hips rearing into her own, chest pressing hers with each breath she took to still her heart. Mustering what weak resolve she could, she turned her mouth from his, hair loosening from its ponytail and beginning to spill out beneath her. She watched as he released a wrist. Took her chin in his hand. Bent his mouth towards hers. Met the man’s darkened gaze. Lifted her hand to rest square against his chest.
Suddenly, he softened and straightened up so slightly, something Blue never could have accounted for.
When she spoke, their hips stilled together, chests parted and faces
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