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“They went at it. Their mouths a frantic, searching quest. As though they were trying to make up for thirty years of longing in this one kiss. He bit her lower lip and she raked her nails down his back. They tumbled to the bed, and his body was finally, deliciously covering hers. She arched. He surged. They rocked. She dug her nails into the base of his back. His hand came up to cup her breast, his thumb stroking over the nipple. She cried out, and he caught the sound with his lips. He ripped away from her, slid down her body, and captured her nipple with his lips, while his free hand snaked down into her yoga pants. He licked at the hard bud. Sucked. Her hips arched off the bed as he tugged harder and harder. When his teeth scraped over her oversensitive flesh, she keened and she couldn't stop the words from falling from her lips. "Jack. God. Jack. Yes. More." He groaned, the sound vibrating over her skin. He pulled her deeper into his mouth. His fingers slid down her waistband and into her panties. Her legs parted. His fingers brushed her clit. She bowed off the bed. He circled the bundle of nerves and lifted his head. "So damn wet." She could feel how wet she was, how slippery. "More." He pushed one long finger inside her, and kissed her, brushing his mouth over her lips. "You feel like heaven." She arched into his touch as his thumb relentlessly circled her clit. Around and around. Over and over. Until she thought she'd go mad with sheer need. "Jack. Please." He plunged two fingers inside her, hooking on a spot so good she lost focus. "Please what, Chlo?" His voice, oh God, his voice. Achingly familiar and yet strange all at once. He swiped over her flesh and she keened again as her body tightened. "Stop." Her head rolled back. "I'm going to come." He increased his pressure and whispered against the shell of her ear, "Then come.” — Kate Angell