~ JOHN-PAUL ~
Hands fisted in her hair, he tugged her back into him, arching her neck and opening his mouth over her throat, dipping his tongue into the divot between her collarbones, and sighing her name before returning to her lips. But he was so overwhelmed by her, the sensation of taking her, the thrumming, tingling pleasure that rocked through him with every thrust of his hips, that he only hovered over her mouth, their lips barely brushing, until even his lips tingled and pulled at him, searching for her, to get closer, always closer.
He could barely find his breath as she rippled under him, her cries small, but growing higher.
He loved the way her mouth sagged with every thrust and he found himself returning again and again to her throat, the symbol of her trust, letting his te
