Catalina’s breaths grew tight and fast. She begged for more of him, and when he gave it, she came, and then came again, and again. He knew with every passing second that the chances of someone happening upon them increased, grew almost certain, but Brigan couldn’t let himself find his own release because it was already too perfect, too unbelievable, and once he finished, then what would become of him? How would he find satisfaction with anything less than this?
