| no catch , mjj | ✓

☆ - 𝘴𝘪𝘹.

"I am now," Michael says, leaning down to brush his lips against hers. Leigh-Anne opens to him, giving him equally as much as she takes. Before long, it's like he's consuming her and needing her as much as he needs the air that he's barely even taking the time to breathe in—it isn't enough.

He runs his hands over her back until he finds the zipper to her dress, and her breath hitches as he slides it down, letting the fabric smoothly pool at her feet. He takes her in, every beautiful, flawless inch. She squirms lightly under his stare, and he wraps his fingers into the sides of her underwear.

"I wanna see you," he whispers. "All of you."

Nodding and biting down on her lower lip, Leigh-Anne watches as Michael drags her lacy black thong down her legs. She helps kick them off, and then he stands, shoving the lingerie into his back pocket.

If she's leaving him, then she's leaving him with a fucking souvenir from the best night of his life.

"Lie down on the bed, on your back."

She eagerly obeys, inching her way up towards the pillows as he unzips his jeans. Seeing her naked lying down in front of him gets him sprung immediately. She looks like a dream.

This time, he pulls out his wallet and tosses the foil packet he'd needed earlier onto the bed. Nothing short of a meteor slamming into earth is going to stop this from happening tonight.

Michael undresses completely and climbs into bed, soon hovering over Leigh-Anne. He grabs a hold onto one of her ankles, and gently, he starts to lick and kiss his way up her leg. When he ends up between her thighs, she's already shaking a little.

He gives one long, hard lick to her opening and groans from the taste. Lord help him, she's perfect. It's like eating cotton candy and letting the sugar dissolve in his mouth. He lingers there, eating her out until she cries out his name and digs her nails into his scalp.

"Please!..." she moans and arches her back.

He can't stop his hands from sliding up her sides, searching for her chest. He presses his lips to her navel, trying to gain control. If he doesn't, he's going to cum before she ever even touches him.

"I need you, Michael. Now."

Damn, he'll never get tired of hearing that. He wants to push her to say it again, to hear her beg him for it, but he can't when he himself needs and wants her just as badly.

He crawls up her body a little more and sits up on his knees, straddling her thighs. Leigh-Anne reaches out, wrapping her hand around his length.

"Mmm, Lei..." he groans, closing his eyes. "Baby, I'm not gonna last if you touch me right now."

"Hurry," she whimpers, working him up and down, stealing his focus.

All sense flees his brain. He has only one train of thought: taking her. Being inside her. Now.

Right fucking now.

He grabs the foil packet off the bed. Leigh-Anne snatches out of his hand and rips it open, then rolls it on. His gaze is glued to her fingers working the rubber down his erection. He's never been this hard or this ready. When he looks up, her hungry eyes mirror the desire he feels.

"You're sure?" he asks.

"Yes." There's no hint of fear in her voice. Only certainty.

She slides her hands over Michael's skin like silk, tracing the Olde English tattoo on his chest above his heart. It thumps just a little harder for her in that moment, and he wonders if she can feel it damn near pounding out of his chest with love.