And then, he devoured her. Fulfilling every promise his eyes had ever made to her. He devoured her in the rain, with his gun beneath her jaw. He devoured her while tasting like the whiskey and sin she heard in his voice. He devoured her without touching another inch of her body, stroking her tongue with his, tasting her so thoroughly her legs weakened, her hands catching onto the lapels of his jacket to keep herself upright, not touching his skin like he wasn’t touching hers, yet letting him support her.
