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But the fullness. The fullness is completion.

It’s euphoric. And to put it simply, my undoing.

Needing more, I roll my hips and sink.

Onto him. Into him.

Until all of him is seated inside of me.

I cry into his mouth when his hands massage my ass, moving me in slow circles until I’m adjusted.

The friction from his guidance makes his length press against my walls in shallow strokes that feel like ecstasy.

My body molds around him like he’s supposed to be inside of me, and I think I’m addicted.

To the pain.

The fullness.

The realization that nobody has ever been inside of me. Only him.

This can’t end.

“You said you wanted to fuck me, so fuck me, Delilah.”

Darkness drenches his command and throws me into action.

I want to please him. To make him proud.

I want him to know I can take it. And I want to come for him, just like this.

The way I’m sprawled on top of him lets me go at a languid pace, but I feel every inch of him and love it.

“Fuck.”

He circles my hard nipple through my satin nightgown, and I lose control.

He’s kissing me.

Pinching my nipples until the pain feels good.

And letting me fuck him until my thighs shake.

This is more than sex, it’s a fucking revelation.

I’ll always need this. Always need him.

I was lying to myself.

I love Adonis Samson. I am so in love with him.

“Adonis, I…l-love you.” The confession is tearful and disjointed. Damn near gibberish as I fuck myself on his dick. But somewhere between the first and last syllable, Adonis gets the message.

His lids drift lower and lower until I think they’ll close, but then his eyes widen.

Going still beneath me, he bites down on his lip and pinches my nipples harder.

And harder.