For a moment, all I can do is marvel at him—the weight of his gaze, the heat still rolling off his skin.
“That was earth-shatteringly good,” I say. “Now it’s your turn.”
“I can’t wait to find out what that means.”
I reach out for him and tug him onto the bed. I shift up, press a kiss onto his lips, then another to his neck, my fingers grazing his waistband.
“Lie down,” I say.
He doesn’t hesitate and obeys, because he knows I’m in charge now. His chest is rising and falling as I straddle him,watching the way his eyes seem to ignite in the dim light of the bedroom. He lifts his arms to touch me, but I grab his wrists and pin them to the pillow. His biceps flex and his jaw clenches and electric current starts to dance under my skin because I know I’m about to watch this man unravel under me.
I smile, and I lean down to kiss him. His hips shift beneath me, but I keep him pinned, my mouth moving with lazy purpose. I’m doing the teasing this time with a soft nibble on his lower lip, followed by a little scrape of teeth as I trail my mouth to his jaw, his throat, the hollow just beneath his ear where I can feel the pulse pounding wild beneath the skin. The sounds he’s making threaten to unlock something deep and wild in me.
I breathe him in. He smells so good like cedar and soap.
“Roxanne…” he rasps, voice half-prayer, half-warning.
I don’t let him speak and silence him with another deep kiss.
He’s panting now, every muscle pulled tight beneath me. His hands flex in my grip. His abs ripple with every breath. I let go of his wrists just long enough to command him to get naked. My fingers skim his waistband. “Time to take these off.”
“I take these off and all control goes out the window.”
“Take them off.”
He obeys my command and pushes his boxers down. His eyes lock on mine as I slide my hands over him and shift my hips. He follows the motion and lets me guide us until I’m on top. I straddle him, bare and flushed, my palms pressed to his chest.
God, this man.
The strength of him, the power and the heat coming off him, the way he looks up at me as I grind into him makes me feel more alive than ever.
“Fuck, Roxanne,” he says, his hands holding my hip as we find our rhythm. “You’re so tight.”
He throws his head back and growls as I ride him. Sparks of pleasure race down my spine as I rock against him. He’s thick,perfect, filling me so completely I can hardly breathe. We were made to fit this way.
I’ve never felt this powerful, this beautiful, this free. I move slow, then faster, rhythm building, heat unfurling as I become tighter and tighter. His hands find mine. Our fingers lace.
“Roxanne,” he says between moans. “You feel unreal… I don’t want this to end, but I’m not sure how long I can hold on.”
“Me neither. This is amazing, you’re amazing … I …”
Divine pressure builds in me as well, and as he groans, he grips my thighs like he’s holding on for dear life. Our rhythm builds, fast and desperate now. My body is strung so tight I feel like I might snap in half.
Each thrust sends a shockwave through me, pleasure coiling around my spine and spreading like wildfire under my skin. My breath shatters in my chest. My thighs begin to shake. My vision goes glassy.
I’m right there. Right on the edge where it’s too much, too intense, too everything—and yet not enough.
“Duke—” I’m barely able to get any words out. “I?—”
He lifts his hips, meets me one last time with a moan that tears out of him like it’s been living in his bones. I finally break, and the release rushes through me in waves. My whole body arches, seizes, opens.
I cry out—loud and unfiltered—because nothing about this is quiet or small.
It’s thunder and flood and flame. The moment I lose myself, he does too. His body bows under me, trembling.
“Roxanne—oh, God?—”
With a final groan, he lets go completely, and we collapse together, hearts thundering in the quiet aftermath. His arms tighten around me like he’s afraid I might disappear. I lift my head to look at him, this strong man made vulnerable by what we’ve just shared.
