"Why?"
Because this is where I've been hiding. This is my safe place, my escape route, my proof that I can survive without anyone else. And I want to let you in.
She couldn't say all that. Not yet. So she kissed him instead, and the laughter faded into something deeper.
He grabbed the hem of her flannel shirt, one she'd stolen from him weeks ago, and tugged it over her head. His eyes went dark as they roamed her body, and she shivered under the intensity of his gaze.
"Still cold?"
"No."
"Liar." He lowered his head to her breast, tongue tracing a slow circle that made her arch off the mattress. "Let me warm you up."
He was thorough. Methodical. Infuriatingly patient.
By the time he'd worked his way down her stomach—kissing, licking, biting in that precise way she loved—she was practically vibrating with need. Her hands fisted in the sheets. Her hips lifted towards him.
"Tarmek."
"Hmm?"
"Stop teasing."
"I'm not teasing." He pressed a kiss to her hip bone. "I'm savoring."
"Savor faster."
His laugh was a warm gust of air against her skin. But he took pity on her, finally, his mouth finding the place where she needed him most.
Edie's back arched. Her head hit the wall.
"Ow—"
"This bed is a health violation."
"Don't stop."
He didn't.
She came apart with his name on her lips and her fingers tangled in his hair, pleasure crashing through her in waves. Before she'd even finished riding it out, he was crawling back up her body, positioning himself between her thighs.
"Okay?"
The fact that he always asked—even now, even when she was clearly desperate and willing and wrapping her legs around him—made her heart clench.
"More than okay." She pulled him closer. "Now. Please."
When he finally pushed inside her, the bed frame groaned in protest. Something in the wall rattled. She was pretty sure she heard a screw pop loose somewhere. She didn't care.
Nothing mattered except the weight of him above her, the stretch and fullness of him inside her, the way his eyes locked onto hers like she was the only thing in the universe worth seeing.
"Edie." Her name came out strangled. "I need to move."
"Then move."
He did.
The rhythm they found wasn’t perfect. It was too cramped for his preferred angles, and too restricted for her usual range of motion. His shoulder hit the ceiling. Her elbow connected with the storage compartment. At one point, the entire camper rocked so violently she was convinced it might tip over.
