So that's what I plan to make him do.
"Jamie." His voice is gravel. "I need you."
Then he closes the distance between us, his mouth slanting over mine. His kiss is desperate now, his hands mapping every inch of my body with feverish intensity.
My lungs burn, but I don't care. I can't get enough of him: of his taste, his smell, of the soft noises he's making in the back of his throat. I want to consume him, brand him, make him feel every inch of my desire.
I pull my mouth off him, only so I can find a different way to devour him. I pull him off the wall and guide us to the bed, desperate to feel his body underneath mine. I graze his neck with my teeth and trace the shell of his ear with my tongue. Every inch of his skin under my fingers, every sound he makes, all of it only brings me higher.
I push him back onto his perfectly made bed, following him down and finally, finally settling my body on top of his, both of us already starting to sweat from the heat of our desperation for each other.
"Jamie, he pants, his eyes wild as he looks up at me. The way helooks at me, his eyes bright and feverish, makes something twist deep inside me. He should be the one feeling vulnerable here—he's the one who's always kept people at a distance, who's always maintained an iron grip on his control. But in this moment, I'm the one trembling, as he allows me to see every inch of him.
"I need…" he says the words again, like they're all his brain can come up with.
I know exactly what he needs. I need it too. "I know, babe. Me too."
His hips buck up, his voice turning desperate. "I need you inside me. Now. Please, Jamie. Please…"
Something cracks inside me at those words—something delicate and precious I wasn't even aware I was holding so tightly.
He reaches over to his nightstand and pulls out lube and condoms, and my hands shake as I coat my fingers and then lean down to slide one gently inside him. I've never been so hard in my life, so desperate to feel him, to connect with him on the most basic level.
I want to take more time with him, but he's not about to let me. "I'm ready, Jamie, please, please fuck me now."
He's so desperate there's not a chance I can deny him what he needs.
When I slide inside him, he arches off the bed with a sharp cry, his eyes flying open, pupils blown wide. For a moment, he's utterly lost in the sensation, and it's fucking beautiful.
"Jamie." His voice is wrecked, overwhelmed.
I start to move, slow and steady at first, but the sight of him falling apart underneath me pushes me harder, faster, until we're both moving desperately together, seeking that exquisite release.
I don't realize I'm holding back until Jamie's hands slide over my hips, his fingers gripping me so hard I know I'm going to have bruises, and I love the idea. He cups my ass, pulling me flush against him, his breath hot against my neck as he thrusts into me. Each stroke sends electricity spiraling through my body, tightening the coil low in my stomach. I cling to him, my hands mapping the strong muscles of his back.
"Ry, look at me." Jamie's voice is a low rumble, demanding my attention.
I force my heavy-lidded eyes open, meeting his gaze. He looks equally wrecked, his eyes dark with desire, his lips kiss-swollen, his hair mussed.
"Please," I manage, not sure what I'm asking for. Everything. Anything.
Rylan." His voice is pleading now, his forehead resting against my shoulder as he moves with raw, relentless intensity.
His hands slide up my back, tangling in my hair as he pulls me into another desperate kiss.
I'm a mess of desperate hands and needy whimpers as we move almost frantically together, my body craving the completion only he can give me
I can feel his release building, sense the tension coiled in his body like a mirror of my own. "Jamie," I gasp, and then I'm falling, shattering into a million pieces of light.
He collapses on top of me, his sweaty forehead pressed to my shoulder, and I wrap my arms around him, holding him close.
After a few moments, he pushes himself up on one elbow, his eyes searching my face.
"You okay?" he asks softly.
I smile, stroking his sweat-damp hair. "Better than okay."
He grins, that dazzling, open smile. Then he leans down and captures my mouth in a slow, lazy kiss that tastes like promises.
