The hard press of him against me nearly made me shatter right then and there.
As it was, a sound escaped me—ragged, loud.
That rumble moved through Caymen again as he rocked his hard length against me, making my hips circle, needy, desperate for friction, for relief from the ache clawing deep inside me.
A drawer beside me opened and closed. Something dropped down on the counter near my hip, and Caymen fumbled with it for a moment, his gaze too fixed on me to pay attention to his task.
But then he was shifting back, pulling a condom foil up to his lips, and nipping the edge.
My core tightened.
And my gaze was helpless but to follow his hands as he quickly protected us before reaching for me again. This time, it wasn’t the back of my neck; it was a hand closing around my throat. Not tight enough to restrict my breathing, but tight enough to make me feel owned. I’d never been so willing to submit before.
But before I could even analyze that, his lips were claiming mine again—hard, hungry, with no restraint to be found.
I kissed him back in kind.
Until my lips felt swollen.
Until my head felt floaty.
Until Caymen released my throat and stepped forward once again, letting me feel the press of him against me.
He rocked himself against my cleft, against my clit, stoking the flames of my need until my nails were scratching across his shoulders, until my moans started to sound ragged and pained.
Only then did he slip downward, pressing hard against the center of me for a long second, just long enough that I couldn’t prepare myself. Just when I thought it might never happen, his hips slammed inward, and I felt the thick stretch of him sliding deep inside me.
The sound that escaped me was choked.
Caymen cursed, low and feral as his forehead pressed to mine for a moment, seeking some self-control.
But I didn’t want that.
I wanted him just like this: wild, rough, unrestrained.
I wrapped my legs around him, using his hips for leverage as I started to rock against him.
“Noa…” he rumbled, his voice a warning. One I didn’t want. Didn’t need.
“Fuck me,” I demanded. “Now,” I said when he still hesitated.
That delicious rumble moved through him again as he pulled back.
His hand went behind my head, pressing at the crown, and I didn’t understand at first.
Not until he did what I demanded: fucked me.
Hard.
Uncontrolled.
Making my body jerk so hard I would have slammed my head into the counter over and over if he hadn’t protected me.
Somehow, even that fact had me getting even hotter, my walls clenching tight around him as he thrust, dragging another curse from deep inside Caymen’s chest.
His lips took mine again, the kiss as feral as the need that bled into every breath, every heartbeat.
Our bodies moved in sync until the rhythm fractured into something too reckless to match, leaving me clinging, clenching, crying out against his shoulder.
