Shadows and Sins

[OD****]

Moonlight spilled across the bed in slivers, tracing silver ribbons along the curves of Chelle’s bare body. Her skin looked like it had been carved from smoke and starlight, glowing faintly under the soft light slicing through the open window.

She sat astride me again, hips slowly rolling in an unhurried rhythm, the glow from the city below catching in her eyes. There was no need to speak. Every sound was a moan half-stifled, every breath a shared secret. Our bodies were having their own conversation—fluent in tension, fluent in need.

I lay beneath her, watching the play of light over her form, every movement a deliberate sin. Her head tipped back, mouth parted, the swell of her breasts rising and falling with each deep breath. She reached up, dragging her hair back, and I swear my soul almost left my body.

Her hands pressed against my chest as she ground down slowly, sliding me deeper inside her. I felt every inch. Every. Damn. Inch. The wet heat of her wrapped around me like velvet and thunder, making it impossible to think—only feel.

I watched the way her body moved—delicate and brutal, soft and insistent, like a storm disguised in silk. The way her thighs trembled as she took control, her back arching in a slow, aching curve as she chased her pleasure like it owed her something.

“Chelle…” I groaned, my hands gripping her hips hard enough to leave fingerprints on the moon.

She looked down at me through half-lidded eyes, her lips glistening, breath coming fast. “You feel that?” she whispered, dragging her nails down my chest. “That’s how bad I want you.”

I couldn’t hold back. Not with her moaning my name in that voice—low, breathless, like she was unraveling while staying perfectly in control. I sat up suddenly, chest to chest, mouth crashing into hers as I flipped her to her back in one smooth motion.

She gasped, laughing into the kiss like she loved losing control almost as much as she loved pretending she had it.

Our bodies tangled in the shadows, the rhythm between us deepening. Each thrust echoed with heat, the slick sound of our bodies meeting filling the room like music written in need. Her moans turned into curses, her legs tightening around my waist, drawing me deeper, pulling me with her into that dark, endless place.

“I’m close,” she whimpered, fingers digging into my back like she was holding on for dear life.

“Then come for me,” I growled, my voice rough with urgency. “Come with me.”

And when she did, it was like watching the stars collapse. Her whole body seized, gasping my name like a prayer and a curse. I followed her over the edge, vision shattering, every nerve ending on fire.

The room went silent except for the sound of our hearts pounding out the aftershocks.

She lay sprawled across my chest, legs still tangled with mine, body slick with sweat and sin. I stared at the ceiling like it had answers. It didn’t.

But she whispered against my neck, “I told you… I wasn’t done with you yet.”

And just like that, neither was the night.