His fucks so desperate they were almost sweet.
He hissed through the wild rocks of his hips. “You are a miracle. Look at you. So damned sexy. So gorgeous and you don’t even know.”
He drove harder.
Faster.
His frenzied pants lifted into the air.
He tightened his hold with one hand, the other grazing over my trembling belly, and his thumb found my clit.
“Oh God,” I cried out.
And I could feel my own reality slipping away. The burn of pleasure he incited with every thrust of his cock.
The man fucked like a barbarian that had perfected his art. Rough and grueling and driving me mad.
Higher and higher toward where day and night spun.
“Rex—”
Everything burst.
Strobes of light that flashed behind my eyes and the pleasure that exploded in my body.
Fracturing.
Scattering wide. Bliss.
It rode every nerve and obliterated every cell.
A sound tore from my throat, given voice where it came to life from somewhere in my spirit.
Because just like Rex had said, this shouldn’t have been real.
It was too good. Too much. Too overwhelming.
Pleasure rushed.
A landslide.
So intense I thought it might go on forever.
Rex drove deeper and harder and wilder. His fingers sank into my hips, and he jerked my body to meet each dominating thrust. The man coming unhinged. Every breath a grunt. He gripped me as if he were clinging to safety, afraid he would be swept away, too. His head kicked back, and he roared toward the ceiling.
And I floated on his ecstasy. My walls clutching him tight. My heart holding on tighter.
For a few moments, we remained there, his shoulders and chest heaving as he panted for air. He slowly lowered my hips to the bed, wincing as he pulled out before he slumped down on top of me.
Threading his fingers through my hair, he rolled us to our sides. He stared at me, blinking in wonder as he brushed his thumb over the curve of my cheek. “That was...”
“Incredible,” I whispered, almost shy.
“Incredible might be an insult. Feeling this way should be impossible, Rynna Dayne. Not sure how I’m going to walk out of this house and ever be the same.”
“What if I don’t want you to walk out of here ever feeling the same?”
“Don’t think there’s any worry about that.” He studied me, hesitating, before he spoke, his admission scratchy. “I haven’t been with anyone since Frankie’s mom.”
