“Okay?” Zach’s voice was strained, every muscle taut with the effort of holding still.
“Move,” she rolled her hips, taking him deeper. “Please, Zach, move.”
He pulled out almost all the way, then plunged deep, and Emma’s head fell back against the wall. The angle was perfect, hitting places that made her see stars.
Zach started slow, stroking in and out, but she didn’t want measured. She wanted the wild man who’d dropped to his knees for her, who looked at her like she was everything.
“Stop holding back,” she demanded fiercely. “I won’t break.”
“Emma—”
“I’m not fragile.” She met his eyes, making sure he understood. “Fuck me.”
The last thread of his control shattered beautifully.
His careful pace dissolved into pounding need and driving hunger. Zach rammed into her, pushing her into the wall with every thrust, and she gloried in it. This was what she wanted—the man beneath the armor, unleashed and undone and all hers.
“Is this what you want?” His voice was rough, each word punctuated by a brutal stroke. “Me wild? You want what happens when I stop holding back?”
“Yes.” Emma’s nails raked down his back, hard enough to leave marks. “Yes, exactly this.”
One of his hands stayed gripped on her thigh tightly, holding her steady. The other slid up to squeeze her breast, rolling and pinching her nipple. The dual sensations—him filling her and his rough touch on sensitive skin—had her clenching around him.
“You feel incredible,” Zach groaned against her neck. “So perfect. Like you were made for me.”
The words sent heat flooding through her. Emma tightened her legs around him, arching her hips, and they both gasped at the sensation.
“There,” she panted. “Right there—don’t stop?—”
He adjusted his angle, hitting that perfect spot with every thrust. Pleasure coiled tight in Emma’s core, winding tighter and tighter. Her whole body trembled with it, balanced on a knife’s edge.
“Touch yourself,” Zach commanded, breath ragged. “I want to feel you come around me.”
She slid her hand between them, finding the bundle of nerves that was already oversensitive from his earlier attention. The first touch made her cry out. She worked her clit as he pounded into her.
“That’s it,” Zach ordered, his rhythm never faltering. “Let me feel it. Let me feel you come apart.”
The combination of her fingers, his voice, the perfect friction of their bodies—it was too much. Pleasure coiled impossibly tight, snapped.
Emma shattered.
She cried out his name as the orgasm tore through her, wave after wave of intense sensation. Her body clamped down around him, and Zach lost his own battle.
He thrust deep one last time, every muscle tensed as he came. He buried his face in her neck, his roar of satisfaction muted against her skin. His hands tightened on her—one on her thigh, one cupping a breast—holding her like she were precious even as they both shook with the aftershocks.
For a long moment, neither of them moved. Just breath and heartbeats and the scent of sex and satisfaction.
Zach lowered her legs until her feet touched the floor. Her knees buckled, and he caught her, one arm wrapping around her waist.
“Steady,” he murmured, his voice still rough.
They stood there, foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air. Emma’s hands came up to rest on his chest; his heart thundered under her palm.
Reality crept back in increments.
Her body hummed with pleasure and new soreness. His body heat seeped into hers. The wall was hard against her back—she’d have bruises there tomorrow too.
Emma pulled back enough to see his face. His eyes were guarded, jaw tight with tension that had nothing to do with what they’d just done.
