Fuck her hair—that was a worry for tomorrow. All that mattered right now was having nothing between them. Her own ferocity should’ve scared her, but honestly she couldn’t really focus clearly on anything other than this wild, animalistic drive to take and be taken. It was new, this kind of attraction. It was undefinable, but shit, it was consuming her. All she could think about was the way she hungered to taste his wet skin, how much she wanted to feel him against her, without those damn clothes in her way! Ripping the shirt open, it didn’t matter to her she couldn’t quite get the thing off his massive shoulders. She needed to bite him—so she did, sucking on the little half-moon shapes her teeth left in his flesh. And he let her, over and over again; he stood there letting her ravage his smooth chest. Her finger curled into the light sprinkling of chest hairs, yanking them hard on purpose. Fuck, what was this he was doing to her? She felt feral, like she wanted to make him feel her.
