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Her dress rode up, exposing her lean legs clad in thick, black tights. “Fuck, there is too much fabric between us.”

She smirks against my lips. “What are you going to do about it?”

I slide my hands up her thighs, the feel of her under my hands electrifying. It’s like our bodies held on by a thread for weeks, and now all the bets are off.

No inhibition. No control. No reason.

She whimpers when I bite her bottom lip, and the sound reverberates through me with maddening intensity.

I want all her whimpers, all her gasps, her moans, her cries. All her sounds.

Even for this one time. One time. The thought stops me, and my hands sliding into her waistband from behind freeze.

She senses my hesitation and cups my erection. “What is it, Corm, you think you can’t handle me?”

“You I can handle, The Morrigan. Are you sure you can handle me? And the aftermath.”

I cup the back of her neck and seize her lips in a punishing kiss. Like I don’t want her to answer. We are past the point of return.

“This means nothing, remember?” she grits out against my lips, her hand holding me in a tight grip.

Like she knows what I like. Like she needs what I need. Like this has happened many times before, and we know the choreography by heart.

We know shit, but for this one time, I can surrender to the illusion. Because, fuck, I need her wrapped around my cock, and damn the consequences.

I’ve been reckless many times over. As a teenager. In recent months. And now, again. But never have I been reckless with such dedication.

My hands glide down the globes of her ass, squeezing it. She straightens up and pushes her pelvis forward, seeking friction. Greedy little nymph.

The shy spring sun shimmers through her tresses, creating a halo around her.

Her slender body in the black, knitted dress is gorgeous, and I can’t wait to see the beauty underneath.

We shouldn’t be doing this, but the forbidden fruit always tastes the best. She starts working on my belt, but I put my hand over hers. I need her nice and ready for all the ways I wish to devour her.

She looks at me, frowning, uttering a frustrated huff. God, she’s adorable. Fuck, I shouldn’t be noticing this.

“What?” she grumbles.

“Greedy much?” I chuckle.

“Asshole much?” She glares.

“Always.” I pull down her tights and her underwear. “Lift.”

She obeys, and they come down to her mid-thighs. This won’t do. I grip the front and rip them off.

“What the fuck, Corm?”

“They were in my way.” I pull the lever to recline the lounger’s backrest. Saar yelps as I jerk her with me, her body sprawling over me in the new horizontal position.

I find her lips again, my cock twitching painfully. She tastes like sin and innocence. Like storm and sunshine. Like mine and definitely not mine.

She pushes my jacket down my shoulders, but I don’t budge, so she yanks my tie.

“Come sit on my face, sweetheart.”

I take in her swollen lips, wild hair, and flushed face. And that strange sense of serenity grabs me again. I stare at her, mesmerized. Spellbound. Taken.