87
GARETH
I free fall into the kiss, melting into his arms.
His touch.
His scent.
His breaths.
Everything.
I’m falling and rolling and unable to hit the ground.
My kiss is pain and frustration and bloodlust. It’s the only cocktail my fucked-up brain can conjure, and yet he’s welcoming it.
Grunting into it.
Into me.
Because he meant it when he said he’s like me. It’s why his darkness spoke to mine from the very beginning. Why his touch electrified me to the core and still does.
It’s beating in the hollow of my heart. Filling up the void slowly but surely.
I’m sitting on his lap now, sucking his face, drinking his blood, not wanting this to end.
Needing this not to end.
God, I missed him.
And I need him.
And I want to erase fucking Cassandra from him. I don’t care if that seems deranged, but I want her gone. Completely.
His erection nudges against my ass and I rub myself all over him, my own cock straining and shoving the fabric of my pants, gliding against his abs. A strangled noise leaves

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