Musk || NSFW
Her lust calls for him.
Sweet notes of almonds, tender hint of soap fill the distance between bed and armchair, enveloping his senses. As if her sprawled- out figure, her hips’ languid rolls weren’t beckoning him enough already.
But then her lips part on a silent oh, her head falls back and impossibly stiff peaks point towards the ceiling as her tongue sneaks out to lap glistening nectar off her fingers.
Cullen grips the armrests, gaze glued to her while his toes curl with effort.
It’s his name own name that breaks him. A moan silken as those plump lips, deep as he wants to be inside her. A hiss of his own escapes him as he gets up, prick straining against his smalls, thick and hard as she’s made him.
Hurried feet barely touch the ground; Cullen’s eyes remain fixed on his prize when the mattress dips; don’t leave for a blink when he settles above her midst.
Only when his head dips does he look at her, makes sure she knows he’s watching. His nostrils twitch as that heady bouquet tests his sanity once more. His sigh has her shuddering, trembling under the hot breath caressing her bald mound.
“Cullen,” two syllables, rich and dark and seductive like dinner’s delectable vintage, “please.”
“As you wish,” he croaks, leaning in, ready to be claimed by her scent, flavour and her.
LOOK I WROTE SOMETHING OMG
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*le sigh*












