“Art leaps back up, takes my hand, and then pulls me onto the bed with him. He kisses me, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth, his body grinding against mine, sweaty and hot. He’s hard, and I am too.

He turns me over onto my back, positioning himself on top of me so that his hardness rubs up against mine.

He whispers my name into my ear, and I whisper his name in his, until our names cease to have meaning, sounding more like moan than anything else. He thrusts faster and faster until my name becomes more scream than moan, and then he rolls over to the side of me.”        p. 338