Page 23 of Iron and Ivory

Not breaks. Snaps. Clean. Like a line pulled too tight finally lettin' go, and I don't think, I don't weigh it, I just move⁠—

Both hands. Her shoulders. I turn her around until her back hits the silo wall making her gasp. And her hands grab my cut and I'm already at her jeans.

Button. Gone.

Zipper. Down.

I drag the denim off her hips and down her thighs in one pull, crouching with it, both hands shovin' the jeans past her knees, her calves, off her feet entirely, and I'm back up before she can even get a full breath.

I slip my fingers between her legs, find her soaked. She moans as I stroke her. Writhing now. It's her turn to squirm. I play with her clit until she squealing and her fingernails are diggin' into my shoulders.

She leans into my neck. The whisper is a command. "Fuck me, Legion."

My hands slide under the backs of her thighs and I haul her up off the ground like she weighs nothin', which she damn near does, and her legs wrap around me before I even get set, ankles lockin' at my lower back, her hands fisted in my cut.

I shift my hips and find her wet and warm and I slide the head of my cock through her lips. Slow. Just glidin'. Back and forth. Lettin' her feel me without givin' her me.

She makes a sound that isn't anythin' near a word.

I do it again. Drag forward until I find her clit, press against it for just a second, then pull back. Slick with her. Warm. Her hips chase me and I let them—let her tilt into the motion, let her work herself against me without gettin' what she's workin' toward.

"Legion." It comes out half-command, half-broke.

I don't answer.

Slide again. Slow. The head of me notchin' at her entrance for just one second—just enough that her breath stops—then pullin' back through.

She tightens her legs, tryin' to pull me in. I hold against it, arms hooked under her thighs, her whole weight in my grip, and the wall does the rest.

"You're doin' it on purpose," she breathes.

Yeah.

I am.

I push inside her slow.

Just the first inch. Just enough to feel her open around me, feel her body deciding to let me in, and then I stop.

Hold there.

Her breath comes apart at the seam.

"There she is," I murmur against her throat. "That's the pussy I been thinkin' about for five days straight."

I pull back out. All the way. Savannah makes a sound like something's been taken from her, which it has, and I slide through her lips again slow, coatin' myself in her, and she's so wet it's runnin' down my cock before I even push back in.

I do.

Same inch. Same stop.

"You're so fuckin' warm," I tell her, low, like I'm just noticin' it for the first time even though I've known it for years, even though it's the thing I think about in every cold room I've ever been in. "Every time. Like you were built to feel good around me."

She tilts her hips, tryin' to take more.

I pull out.

"Legion—"