Forsaken
Iris finally parts her lips slightly, and I don’t waste a single moment, taking her silent invitation with complete, roaring gratification.
She tastes incredibly sweet, just like every other single thing about her. Her taste is like gentle, rich honey that perfectly matches her scent in name. It makes me groan again at the sheer, unadulterated delight it causes within my system. I needed more of it; I knew with absolute certainty that I could no longer live without it. Our tongues caress gently, small, precious whimpers escaping Iris as she presses her body closer to mine, as if trying to physically merge us into one being.