Twenty Seven

Rowen tossed Hayleigh to the bed and swiftly went on top of her.

There wasn’t a moment when his lips weren’t on her. He kissed her until her mouth was swollen and she was left breathless, and soon her neck was adorned with the first of many marks he would leave on her for the rest of the night.

He lifted the thin, oversized shirt she wore, tracing kisses all over her stomach until his lips paused on her left breast. He looked up to find her watching, her entirety trembling with anticipation when his warm breath sent her nipple hardening. Finally he took her breast in his mouth, and she melted like putty before him.

It felt so good to have her beneath him again, at the mercy of his every move. He removed the shirt off her, taking his sweet time reacquainting his lips over every inch of her body. Her skin was as smooth and unmarred as he last remembered it—a blank canvas made pure for him to paint once again.