Heat: Fifty Fictions For The Fevered Mind
Gem-Maa little less conversation a little more touch my bodyi can't sleep until i feel your touchi caught him looking at my lipsi can feel you tremble when we touch
The novel lay open under her hands-wet, crumpled, dog‑eared.
He looked at it, then at her.
He pulled the book free with one hand, and his own wet fingers brushed between her thighs again, smart with urgency.
"One more time?" he rasped.
Claire stared at him-ache behind her eyes, voice hoarse.
"Yes," she finally breathed. "One more time."
He kissed her, deep and rough. Closed the book with his other hand-cover snapping shut with authority.
She rode him one more time, skin slick, body trembling, pulses crashing as she came again-slow, powerful, echoing under the hush of books. Rowan groaned and came with her, feeding her tight until he fell forward, forearm over her back, his breath ragged.
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