Every grip of my hips.
Every rough, low sound he makes as he eases me onto his bed, his solid weight pins me down, and he claims me like something he’s fought for and won.
Mal kisses me as if he’s been holding back for years. He moves over me, all heat and weight and agile strength. And I let him, the dismantling need for control absent in ways I’ve never felt before.
You told him.
The thought slams into me, but it doesn’t settle, at least not with any feeling beyond acceptance, and it leaves my head as abruptly as it arrived.
“You sure you want to do this now?” Mal’s voice, rough and melodic, cuts through the weak noise, his lips brushing my jaw.
I breathe in and exhale slow. “Definethis.”
Mal makes a feral sound, giving me no time to speak more. Then he’s on me, and he’s everywhere. My throat, my collarbone, my chest. That healing hand splayed over my abdomen as he settles between my legs.
I like him on his knees.
I love him poured onto this bed, his long arms wrapped around my waist as he takes me in his mouth with a slow, aching pressure that draws a snatched breath from my lungs and a low laugh from him.
“We’realone, remember?”
I remember. But muting how good he makes me feel, it’s a hard habit to break. I bite back every moan until he bitesme, and that pain…as my spine arches from the bed, driving my cock deeper down his throat, I love that too.
He has my lower body in a chokehold. It’s a fucking trip. But I miss him. And as wicked as his mouth feels fused around my dick, I don’t want to come yet.
I thread my fingers into his hair and tug him off me—slowly. Mal’s green eyes gleam with knowing anticipation, but I’m not done. I needmore.
He’s still wearing a shirt. I grab him and pull where it’s tangled around his shoulders, ripping it over his head. Then I haul him up the bed, kicking my clothes away, shoving at his until they’re out of my way. Until we’re skin to skin and I’m staring at him as if I’ve never seen him naked before. As if I’ve forgotten how he feels inside me when it’s been less than a week.
His long, tanned limbs. His lean chest and abs, dusted with dark body hair. The hot length of his dick. My body is tired, everything hurts. But I crave Mal like nothing else.Him, not distraction or a temporary fix to a permanent problem. I want him, and I fucking know he wants me.
He kisses me, a groan rumbling from his chest, deep and low. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, and the sentiment hits like the truth it is. Because he does have me. Every cracked and broken part of me. He holds it all and I let him. Ineedhim, and it doesn’t scare me anymore.
We’ve never fucked like this.
Face-to-face, nose to nose, foreheads pressed together as he eases into me, just lube, no condom.
“I’ve got you,” he whispers again.
He moves inside me, slow and steady, never breaking eye contact, and I lose myself in his face.
The clench of his jaw.
The way his long lashes flutter as his languid rhythm becomes a deeper grind.
I’m on the edge from the start, unbearable pleasure straining every nerve. Sounds rip from my throat I’ve never made with anyone, and I grip the back of Mal’s neck, panting into his bruising kiss, letting him break me wide open, his whole body a live wire, arousal trembling beneath his hot skin.
He thrusts harder, sinking his teeth into the spot on my neck he claimed for himself from the start, and I cinch my legs tighter around him, my fingers digging into any part of him I can reach.
Fuck.
Mal roots a fist to the bed, trying to tame the fire unfurling between us, but he doesn’t stand a chance.
It gets messy.
Loud.
Mal groans my name, forehead still pressed to mine, holding my gaze, keeping me present. Keeping mewith him, as every laboured breath and moan draws me closer to the bliss we both deserve.