A touch of sin
After spending a night together, Nova never expected to see Damian again. That is, until three months later when their paths crossed once more.
“You’re so wet, Nova,” he murmured against my neck, his warm breath fanning over my skin as his lips grazed me. Damian’s nose traced along my jaw before he pressed a slow, possessive kiss under my ear. His hand slid between my thighs, fingers brushing over my slick folds before teasing my clit in slow, deliberate circles. My breath hitched, and his low groan vibrated against my throat. He pushed two fingers inside me, curling them deep as his thumb kept stroking. Heat coiled in my belly, my hips grinding into his touch. I glanced down and caught the sight of his tattooed hand buried in my lacy underwear, moving with skill and hunger. I smirked through a gasp — I loved seeing him there, claiming me like that.