Fuck. I needed more of this. Who cared that we were sitting on a beach, unhidden except by the cover of darkness? Who cared people might be looking for us? My hands were wandering on their own now, finding every sensitive place I knew so well, cataloguing every brand new audible reaction. A feathery brush over the sharp tip of his ear, and he let out a ragged breath against my mouth. A nip at his jaw, and he growled low in his throat, his hands tightening around my waist. A scrape of nails over the onset of his wing, and he snarled – a primal sound that left me lightheaded and gasping for air.
