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That's all.

But they hit someplace deeper than they should.

He shifts again, positioning me exactly where he wants me. I'm lying back against the cushions while he kneels between my thighs, his hands sliding beneath my ass and lifting my hips toward him.

Then he starts moving.

Hard.

Deep.

His cock pistons in and out of me as his pace increases, each powerful thrust dragging another moan from my throat.

My fingers clutch uselessly at the couch.

“Fuck.”

His breathing grows heavier.

Rougher.

Mine isn't any better.

The room fills with it.

Our breaths.

My moans.

His low, filthy growls.

The unmistakable sounds of two people who spent weeks pretending they could live without this.

Without us.

But it's his eyes that undo me.

Those impossibly intense blue eyes stay locked on mine.

He doesn't look away.

Doesn't let me either.

“Mitchell.”

“That's it.”

His grip tightens beneath me.

Pleasure coils tighter and tighter in my belly.

He knows.

Of course he fucking knows.

“Do it, Firecracker.”

My breath catches.