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In between these ministrations, they surge into another raving kiss. His tongue rides her own, pulling a series of hoarse whimpers from them. Their arms and limbs mold, his torso sweeping over her taut breasts, the nipples budding for his mouth.

Sorrow cries out when he purses his lips and sucks with force, stars bursting behind her eyes. She mumbles incomprehensible words, and he answers with more flicks of his tongue, tormenting her to the brink before taking the other breast.

“I’ve wanted you my whole life, Sorrow,” he hums thickly. “I still want more of you. I want everything. I want the sound of me inside you.”

“Then take it,” she pleads, hooking her legs tighter around his waist. “Fuck it out of me, Envy. Do it sweetly.”

“Like this?” he teases, prodding her with his tip.

She sighs. “Yes.”

Another agonizing jab of his prick, and another, and another. “Does this hurt?”

The result is a decadent shimmy up her spine. She nods vehemently, her nails burrowing into his shoulder blades because, yes, it hurts. Yes, it hurts so well.

Yes, it’s pain. Yes, it’s pleasure.

And no, don’t fucking stop.

Naturally, she realizes too late that she’d made that request aloud.

Growling, Envy obliges. Braced on his palms, he suspends himself above her, his abdomen flexing with tension. The V of his hips lead to a trail of dark hair, his length firm and ready. The sight of her thighs splayed around his naked waist, and his cock primed, steals the last of her oxygen.

But it’s his face that unravels her.

No artifice. No veneer. No ruse.

Stripped bare, Envy gazes at her with an immeasurable emotion, one that has mystified and intimidated her for eons. But not anymore.

Sorrow grasps his face, and nips his chin, and mouths,Make love with me.Without waiting, she agitates her lower body, her groin chafing with his. Envy’s lids flutter, a curse sputtering from his tongue.

She gyrates a second time, then a third.

His control snaps—and so do his hips.

With a single whipping motion, Envy lurches into her. Harsh cries push out of them as his waist charges forth, their bodies jutting over the sheets. Moisture collects on their skin. The delirious pace of his thrusts fills the room, their moans curling to the ceiling, the noises amplifying.

Sorrow spreads wider, encouraging him to go deeper, deeper, deeper still. Her insides clench around Envy’s shaft, the friction terrible and wonderful. Her body reels beneath him, and his body undulates over her, and they drive against one another.

She concentrates on the brush of their shoulders, the puffs of air from their lungs, the entry and retreat. His lips snatch hers, prying her kiss apart, in the same way his length pries her apart. Sorrow bawls into his mouth, and he swallows the reverberation with another heaving groan.

Breaking from the kiss, he grapples the back of her head, holding it in place, holding her gaze to his while he lunges into her with long, burrowing strokes. Their eyes fasten together, and their mouths slacken as they chase that wave, chase it, chase it.

Envy’s all toned muscle, all joints working in tandem. He possesses an agile momentum and unparalleled tempo. He bucks his hips even deeper, locating a spot that nearly blinds Sorrow. Matter of fact, he shouts in surprise, as if he hadn’t known that place existed.

Good. She can’t be the only who’s going to pass out, or shatter into fragments, or both.

Flipping them over, she tackles his wrists to the mattress and beats her hips into his pelvis. Envy shuts his eyes. His palms span her waist, guiding her movements.

She grinds, loving the twitch of his eyelashes, the loosening of his jaw. She rides him to the brink, adoring his speechlessness. She loves all of it, consumes all of it, gives all of it.

He gives back, rising into her, swelling into her. Clasping Sorrow’s ass, he tugs her forward and backward, changing the cadence so that she can’t do a thing but straddle him. She gasps in tune to the motions, her thighs rubbing astride his.

All at once, she lands on her back again. And they’re hugging, and they’re rushing at one another, and she can’t tell where it begins or ends. Their bodies sprint. Envy’s hips whisk into Sorrow’s, and they both beg for more, and more, and more.

Until they go still. And then they tumble.

Sorrow and Envy cling to one another, coming with entwined shouts. Their mutual climax spasms through the cavernous halls, and it goes on, and on, and on.