Nyte was right. In this moment, I didn’t care if the stars fell and the world cracked. I didn’t care about anything but him. The taste of him, so raw and passionate; the way we moved as if centuries of resistance were pouring out violently. I whimpered against his mouth, opening mine for our tongues to clash feverishly. A low groan of pain emitted from him as our bodies pressed tighter together, my hands fisting his hair, and the same ache of explosive yearning tightened inside me. I didn’t want to ever part from this salvation he’d become.
