CHEATING | EROTICA | FICTION
Longing for More
Who said love and intimacy had to come from the one person?
Ashton was the most skilled man Verity had ever had the joy to fuck.
He teased her first. Fingers barely touched skin as his hands roved over her body, waking up every nerve, preparing it for what was to come.
His lips gave kisses as soft as the brush of a butterflies wing, his teeth nibbled her earlobes, her breasts, her skin.
His tongue tasted her every dip and swell, the pressure sometimes soft, sometimes firm, but always as the situation required, flicking against her nipples and clit, delving between her folds, circling her anus.
Just a look from him was enough to get her wet.
Less than that. A simple text message.
Perhaps it wasn’t all his skill. Perhaps a part of it was the thrill of the secret, of pretending she was texting a friend when really she was texting a lover. Perhaps it was the excitement of the idea of being a double agent, having a secret identity distinct from the one most people knew about. Perhaps it was the joy of finally getting the intimacy she’d been missing out on all this time.
