Chapter 2: Morning Hunger
Maranda woke to the heat of Cole’s mouth already between her thighs, his tongue a slow, deliberate pressure against her clit that had her gasping into the dawn light. He worked her with a focused hunger, one hand pinning her hip to the mattress as she twisted, his name a broken syllable on her lips until she came with a sharp cry, her thighs clamping around his head. Later, as she dressed for the bank, he pulled her back against his bare chest, whispering filthy promises against her neck before making slow, deep love to her against the closet door, his fingers laced with hers. At noon, he appeared in the lobby with a paper bag, his grin all wicked innocence as he followed her into the vault’s cold silence, where he pushed her over the stacked bills and fucked her with quick, desperate strokes, spilling inside her with a guttural groan. He left her there, disheveled and aching, the scent of their sex cutting through the sterile smell of ink and metal.