Beasts of the Moon
His hands crush me closer, his fingers finding my nipples again, teasing, twisting until I’m unraveling.
Our breaths turn ragged. The air is thick, wet with our sounds, our heat. He pounds into me, steady, relentless, until we both fall apart, shattering together, the world gone in white hot bliss.
When I collapse into him, trembling, his lips press against my neck, soft, steady, promising more than words ever could.
That kiss anchors me. Holds me. Saves me.
And as I cling to him, my beast of the moon, I know this storm will never truly end. But I also know this: I will never face it alone.
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