"Not with you," he murmured. "Never."
"Hmm." She understood his nature, and loved him still. No. Donovan did not deserve her. Worship her, he thought, and then ... end it. End it before she sees the true depths of your selfishness.
He kissed her until she went breathless, her fingertips tracing patterns on his back, feeling as soft and fluttery as butterfly wings, then lavished attention on her breasts. She loved it when he played with her nipples, so he suckled the peaks until she was panting, and while he kissed her again, he cupped her breasts, and tweaked the turgid points.
"Oh!" she cried. "Oh, Donovan!"
She squirmed beneath him, and he could smell her sex, sense her need. She lifted her legs, wrapping them around his waist. Her eagerness humbled him. And it was she who guided his cock to the entrance of her pussy.
Shuddering, Donovan slipped into her wet heat, and with her murmuring in his ear, he began to thrust.
"I love you," she said. "Oh, how I love you."
