Page 140 of When Love Takes Root

So I kept going.

I lifted into him. Held him. Kissed his jaw when his head dropped. Let my hands move over the muscles in his back, his shoulders, his arms. Gave him my mouth when he reached for it. Gave him my eyes when he demanded them without begging. Gave him the truth of my body tightening around him because he’d made me feel safe enough to want without apologizing for it.

His hand tightened at my hip.

“Red.”

The name came out rough enough to make my pulse jump.

“Yes?”

“You keep doing that, and slow is going to get real difficult.”

I smiled against his mouth.

“Good.”

His eyes flashed.

Then he moved deeper, and that one word got swallowed by the sound he pulled out of me.

His rhythm stayed slow, but it carried weight now. Purpose. Confidence. That steady I’ve got you energy that made my body trust him, even when the pleasure started rising too fast. He kissed my jaw, my neck, the corner of my mouth. His hand returned to my breast, massaging me while his hips moved in a way that made sound climb out of me with nowhere to hide.

“That’s it, love.”

He groaned and kissed me hard enough to make my thoughts scatter, then softened it before I could lose myself completely.

“That’s what I needed,” he uttered against my lips.

My chest tightened.

He kept moving, and I kept meeting him, learning the rhythm with him instead of letting him carry the whole moment alone. His body gave. Mine answered. His breath broke. Mine followed. Every place he touched woke under his hands, but every sound he made woke something in me too. I wanted his control. I wanted his tenderness. I wanted the low, helpless sound he made when I tightened around him and smiled like I knew exactly what I’d done.

His mouth brushed mine. “You playing dangerous now.”

“No.” I slid my hands into his braids and held him close. “I’m learning you.”

His eyes softened and burned at the same time.

Then he moved again, deeper, and the smirk slipped right off my face.

“There she is,” he coaxed. I clung to him. “You can be bold, baby. I still got you.”

My breath caught.

He gave me another slow stroke, and my body tightened around him without trying this time.

“That’s it. Let me feel you.”

Pleasure gathered low, spreading through my hips, my stomach, my thighs, everywhere his hands had been. He kept his mouth near mine, catching the sounds as they came, not silencing them, just staying close enough to receive them. The room held the heat of us, the scent of him, the damp slide of skin, the scrape of his beard, the faint taste of mint and salt on my tongue.

His hand moved over my hip, firm and sure.

“I’m not coming up off you, Celeste. Not after this. Not after you trusted me like this.”

My eyes burned.

His mouth softened against mine.