SKYLA.
He kisses me back with equal hunger and passion, but even as he reciprocates, his self-control is impressive.
He throbs against me, yet despite the intense desire that I know courses through him, he’s still kissing me like I’m something he wants to worship and treasure.
Each caress of his tongue, each brush of his lips and each touch hold so much more, making my core knot in a pleasure that is so different.
He makes me weak in the knees.
His hands run down my ass and thighs as if memorising the feel of my skin.
I love how well I fit in his hands, and how his fingers feel on my skin.
Royce may be ice, but he’s hotter than the Sahara.
And when he brushes his knuckles up my legs, the temperature rises faster than you can count to three.
Fuck…
I can’t think straight. I kiss
