He slid them back out and then reached inside again. “Convince me you don’t want this. Explain to me how you don’t want this forever.”
In answer, her arms tightened around his neck, deepening their kiss. Throbbing need pulsed beneath his palm, wet with her desire. Loving her was so much better than talking.
So much better than explaining or coaxing with words.
He’d had a taste of this woman, but he needed more. He would never be satisfied.
Her hands slid down his front and fumbled at the fastenings on his trousers. Her impatience matched his.
And as gentle but searching hands wrapped around his aching cock, he growled. “Diana.”
He needed inside of her.
Inside of her body, but also her heart—all of her.
“Need you.” Was that her whisper or his?
Greys lined himself at her entrance, whipped his arms down and around her knees, and with a single thrust, promised her what words never could.
That all-consuming emotion wasn’t going to go away.
“What do I have to do?” He gasped into her neck. “What do I have to say?”
“Deeper.” Her arms tightened, and she simultaneously squeezed his cock with her inner flesh. “Don’t say anything. I want this. I want you like this.”
Greys' mind warred with his body, one wanting to read her eyes, to understand her thoughts, her needs—and the other to fill her completely.
Deeper, she’d commanded.
He increased his pace, strengthening each stroke even as his arms shook from holding her. He’d never comprehended the anarchy of lust—the need to consume and be consumed, unchecked by reason. He felt this in his cock, but also in his chest, his belly—he tasted her, she filled all his senses. The tumult reduced his vocabulary to his most basic of needs.
“Want. You.Now.”
And for once, he wasn’t managing his feelings, but his feelings were managing him.
“Zeke.” Liquid heat convulsed around him, drawing him deeper, closer, and whether it was by luck or serendipity, she reached her completion in the exact moment his control snapped.
Shattered bliss exploded, and their shared release conquered him.
