She pushed him onto his back, and he let her, surrendering control for the moment. His cock jutted up between them, flushed dark with need, and she wrapped both hands around him just to watch his face.
"Brynn—" Her actual name, rough with desperation. "If you keep doing that, I'm going to?—"
"Going to what?" She stroked him faster, harder. "Come for me? I want to see it. Want to feel you lose control."
"Not yet." He grabbed her hips and flipped them, pinning her beneath him again, breathing hard. "Not until I'm inside you."
The words made her pupils dilate. She was still slick from her orgasm, her thighs wet with it, and when his length slid against her folds, they both groaned.
They moved together, urgency mounting. He dragged through her arousal, the head catching against her entrance with every roll of their hips. She was grinding against him shamelessly, coating him with her slickness.
"Please," she breathed. "Dante, I need—I need you inside me?—"
"I know, thief. I know."
She pushed against his shoulders, and he let her flip them again, let her straddle him. The head of his cock pressed against her entrance, and she started to sink down?—
Every instinct screamed at him to let her. To thrust up into that tight heat and claim her completely.
Instead, his hands caught her waist.
Brynn
"Not yet."
She stared at him in disbelief. "What?"
His jaw was clenched, every muscle in his body taut with restraint. She could feel him trembling beneath her. Could feel his cock twitching against her entrance, straining to be inside her.
And he'd stopped.
"Not when we're still angry," he managed, his voice wrecked. "Still fighting."
"I don't care about fighting right now?—"
"I do." He cupped her face in his hands, making her look at him. His eyes were dark with want, but underneath was tenderness. It made her chest ache. "When I take you completely, it won't be out of jealousy or anger. It will be because you're mine, and I'm yours, and we'll both choose it with clear heads."
She stared at him, chest heaving, her body screaming at her to ignore him and sink down anyway.
But his thumbs were stroking her cheekbones. And his eyes were so earnest, so vulnerable beneath the hunger.
"You're ridiculous," she whispered, but her voice came out soft instead of angry.
"Probably." He pressed a kiss to her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. "But you deserve more than a claim made in anger for our first time together.”
The wall she'd built since walking out of his chambers cracked. Then crumbled.
He pulled her down against his chest, both of them still breathing hard, skin slick with sweat. She let him arrange her against him, let herself be held even with everything still hanging between them.
His cock was still hard against her thigh. She knew he had to be aching. But he just held her, one hand stroking slowly up and down her spine.
"I'm still furious with you," she murmured against his shoulder.
His lips twitched. "I wouldn't expect anything less."
“You made a scene at the gathering. Humiliated me in front of everyone."
“You were trying to make me jealous.” His voice was dry. "It worked.”
