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When she tells me harder, I give her harder. When she pulls me closer, I move closer. When she catches my wrist and changes the angle, I let her.

Her pleasure builds under my hand until she buries her face against my neck, breath breaking on my name.

I could live inside that sound.

I don't tell her that.

One emotional catastrophe at a time.

Sweet lies back, flushed and breathing hard.

“You look smug.”

“Happy.”

“That is still suspiciously close.”

I grin.

She reaches down and wraps her hand around me.

The grin disappears.

“Jesus Christ.”

“There.”

“What?”

“No smugness.”

“Cruel woman.”

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately.”

Her thumb moves.

I nearly forget language.

“Sweet.”

“I know. I know. Condoms.”

“That wasn't what I was gonna say.”

“What were you going to say?”

I stare at her.

She laughs.

“Never mind.”

“Very wise.”

I reach for the condom and put it on.