2 kids

Delicious mistakes.

Alex.

Mistakes happen.

And some of them taste sweet as hell.

Especially when they're sprawled on the bed in front of you, back arched and the freakiest sounds escaping their lips.

Such lovely melodies echoing through the house.

I gid deeper into my midnight snack, using not only my fingers or tongue, but pleasuring my angel with both at the same time. Her fingers pull on my hair, pushing me further into her.

And so I take it all, everything she gives me.

Enjoy the pleasure glazing her beautiful angelic face.

Her toes curl and I grab her ankles, placing them on my shoulders. Allowing myself deeper access.

It's so wrong in so many ways, yet neither of us can be bothered to care. I wasn't supposed to find myself in Ashley's room at four in the morning, head stuck deep between her legs and eating her out like I haven't consumed food in weeks. The plan was simple – to find answers Ace needs.

Instead I'm taking the same way down the same road, leading to the same end.

But god, I'd take it over and over again.

I'd take eating her out again and again over any stressful visits.

When her soft voice begged me to stay, I couldn't resist. I've never been able to resist anything coming from those lips, and I never will. When I held her, and she slowly looked up at me through those black lashes of hers, it was only a matter of milliseconds before I'd have her pinned on the bed.

A loud moan escapes her lips, and her hand flies to cover her mouth.

"Don't," I hiss. "I want to hear you scream, angel."

When her palm is still covering her mouth, I stop. Detach myself from her little sensitive temple and kiss my way up her stomach, chest and neck. Removing the hand and replacing it with my lips.

"I want to hear you moan, angel."

Her fingers are still playing with my hair, as her lips frantically demand mine. If we'd have the time needed, I'm sure we could break the world record in kissing.

She kisses down my neck, leaving a mark right where it's most visible. And so my hand travels back down to where it was a while ago, continuing the play. Continuing pleasing her, teasing her. Never allowing her to reach the climax.

She looks at me annoyed when I disconnect my fingers, slowly licking them while keeping the gaze.

I don't catch a single sign of regret in her eyes, and that only assured me this night is still young. We both need a distraction, a pleasant sensual distraction.

And so I whisper in her year, "I want you on your knees, angel."

Her breath hitches, but with a small peck on my lips, she obeys. Painfully slowly she turns me around, taking her time to tease me like I always tease her. My shirt has been laying on the floor somewhere for a while now. Her pink lips trace a straight line directly down the middle of my torso, stopping at the hem of my jeans.

With those damn doe eyes, she stares up at me.

Frustrated and horny as hell, I run a hand through my hair and move the edge of her bed as she drops to her knees.

A fallen angel.

The sight of her reminds me of a fallen angel, broken by trust and love. A fallen angel I have created, broken, and am breaking again.