Raw Urgency
Read the storyI cupped her face, raw, angry lust coiling in the pit of my stomach. She gasped at the sudden action, eyes widening a fraction of a second before something equally fierce flashed back at me. Surprise melted into heat. Challenge. Want. Then her lips were on mine. The kiss wasn’t tentative or sweet. It was messy and urgent, months—maybe years—of unspoken tension finally snapping. Her breath caught against my mouth, and I devoured the sound as much as the kiss itself. Our mouths moved fast, almost desperate, tongues tangling as if every second apart had been wasted time we were trying to make up for now. Her hands slid up my chest, gripping my shirt, and before I fully registered the motion, Margot shoved me backward. My shoulder blades hit the fridge with a dull thud, magnets rattling and something inside shifting noisily. The cold metal seeped through my shirt, but the heat of her pressed against me erased it instantly. She kissed me harder, like she was trying to punish me, and maybe she was. Her fingers twisted into the fabric at my collar as if daring me to pull away. I didn’t. My hands slid from her cheeks down to her waist, gripping instinctively. She fit against me too well—like muscle memory, like something familiar I’d tried and failed to forget. Her hips pressed forward, and a low sound escaped her throat, half breath, half moan, swallowed by my mouth. “Margot,” I muttered against her lips, but whatever I meant to say disappeared when she bit my lower lip just enough to sting. I yanked off her shirt, and unclasped her bra, exposing breasts that fit so well, so right in the palm of my hands. Somewhere along the line our clothes flew off, and I carried her to my bed. And somewhere along the line, I entered myself into Margot’s pussy and we fucked like it was no one’s business.