His touch was hot; it burned fervidly against her bare skin. Like wildfire, the heat spread mercilessly throughout her entire body, leaving no region untouched. She could hear his breathing, his breaths becoming more and more erratic, heaving and becoming hotter with every sigh. The world was slipping, fading into uncertainty. And for a second, there was only rapture, fueled solely by instinct. Her stomach contorted into knots and she clung onto him tighter. She dared not let go.
He caught her by the lips, refusing to release her. Oxygen was secondary. All she needed was him, all of him: the sensation of his rigid body dominating hers, his mischievous implications, and his shameless touch. He did not falter; every action was fulfilled with flawless intent. Unyielding, his lips continued, rhythmically depriving her of air. Gently, his kisses trailed to her neck—they were persistent but not aggressive. Again, his breath was hot against her ear.
He bit her, managing to elicit a sigh.
"Remus..." She whimpered into the base of his neck.
The room was dark. The only light was the radiant beams of moonlight, emanating through a crack between the shutters. In the faint moonlight, she could make out tendrils of copper locks, lightly plastered onto his forehead. She closed her eyes, inhaling deeply, bracing herself. His scent was so familiar, like red wine and gin—a potent aphrodisiac. She bit her lip. Her senses were growing too sensitive: her veins were about to rupture from heat and her legs were about to go catatonic. All the blood was rushing to her forehead.
He looked her in the eye, obviously sensing her anxiety. His gaze pierced though her, nearly shattering her confidence. She averted her eyes; insecurity immediately took effect. Her cheeks grew hotter, and she was overcome with the overwhelming desire to confine herself within a cocoon of sheets. She wanted to hide from him, conceal her flaws. She wreathed beneath his frame, still able to feel his stare.
God—he was watching her.
He pushed the hair away from her face. "Don't…" He murmured; his voice was raspy, almost a low growl.
She couldn't breathe.
The heat was unbearable. Her nerves were practically screaming, begging for relief. Euphoria was just a step away, so close and yet so distant. All feeling was lost from her knees down. Her fingers tensed, the nails burying themselves in the flesh of his biceps. In the morning imprints of her fingertips and the bruises on her neck would remain, but she didn't give a damn. It was a small price to pay for immense pleasure.
She needed more.
As if reading her mind, he bent forward, pressing his lips hard against the base of her throat. He nibbled on the skin, his bites becoming harder and harder.
"God…" They both sighed with absolution.
Sweet, indulgent, Euphoria.
He kissed her one last time. "Let's run away."