“I’m out for you.” She grips my head, and I come down and think to myself, yeah, you wanna play, I’ll play. I shove her against the cushions then toss them away, my hunger so big for her that even if she wants to run away, I’ll chase, every fucking time.

She’s mine.

Mine.

My teeth scrape against her neck.

She laughs like it’s funny.

I grip her ass.

More laughter.

“Girl came to play,” I whisper.

She flips me onto my back in a way that I wasn’t expecting as I fall onto the ground, her straddling me. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want mercy?”

I put my hands behind my head. “Yes.”

She lowers herself on me and grins. “I’m gonna make you my bitch.”

“Fuck yes.” I grip her by the hair and kiss her harder, harder until I can’t even feel my lips anymore. The table next to us shakes,

MB grabs me by the neck and pulls me against her; I didn’t expect her to be so aggressive, but I like it, and my body realizes it really soon.

We needed this.

Her.

This.

Touching.

Being together. Knowing that even in pleasure and pain, we have each other, and we have this, we’ve always had this explosive passion between us. I’m so hard I can’t function, or at least my body’s telling me that as I rub myself against her, as she reaches into my jeans and grips me so hard, I think I might die.

I kiss her neck, then lick up toward her chin. My teeth dig into her chin before kissing her on the mouth and tugging at her lips. Fuck she tastes good.

She shoves me back.

“What?” I ask.

A lean leg lifts, and her foot presses against my chest, down, down, down, oh hell, I’ll go deeper if that’s what she wants, down into the seven circles of hell as she presses me harder against the floor.

“I need you.” Is all she says as her top comes off her body thrown to the side, discarded like it’s a disgrace. I peel my shirt over my head, and it joins hers.

Her hands reach for my jeans and jerks them open.

“Here for it,” I say. “Also, can you make that really sexy face again just now because damn, I think I just orgasmed.”

She laughs and slaps me against my stomach.

I grip her fingertips and slowly kiss each one. “I really like you.”

“I really, really like you,” she says back.

“We doing this?”

“Yeah.” She nods. “We are.”

“Should have never stopped,” I whisper, tugging her by the neck and pulling her mouth to mine, kissing her deeply; our tongues don’t know what to do but touch, slide, suck, hold. I feel like I’m drowning, and I accept it, like breathing in the water, knowing you might die.

I’d suffocate in her.

She smiles against my mouth and shoves my jeans down. I kick them further. Her leggings are next, and her thong follows, crashing against the ground.