The Power

Hovering, she lowered herself till they became one. Her hands placed in the center of his chest, hips moving to the beat. He begged her to take him harder, she refused. A shake of her wild golden mane, she would only move to the beat of his heart, though her body begged for more. It was an exchange of power. She took what was hers. When his hands gripped her hips, forcing her to accelerate, she warned him with her nails to his chest, trickles of crimson desire pooling in the center. She fed on the warm liquid of life.

A.J. Luna

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