Burning in your Love
francis writer
His expression pained.
“Ready?” I gasp.
“Fuck, yeah.” He pulls me down harder, jacks up to meet me. I’m bouncing on his lap, my small breasts jiggling, my breath cut short with each magical thrust.
“Please,” I whine, even though I know it’s coming.
“Fates, yeah,” he shouts.
I bounce higher. My eyelids flutter as I lose the ability to focus. To breathe. To remember my name.
And then we both come. My screams mingle with his roar, echoing off the canyon walls and coming back to us as the reverberation of our climax echoes through our bodies.
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