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taste her moan. That’s all I need to lose control. I devour her mouth, pleased when she returns my kiss with equal abandon.
    Desire swirls through me like a fucking tornado. My balls ache and my cock is like steel, ready to dive deep and explode within her, and I have to fight the urge to take her swiftly.
    She deserves more than just a quick fuck. She deserves to be worshiped, and that’s what I intend to do.
    I travel down her body, kissing her neck, breasts, stomach, trailing down to the soft curls between her thighs.
    Her hands are in my hair, and her eyes are half-lidded and slightly glazed when she looks at me, burning with passion and need.
    When I swipe my tongue over her clit she jerks in response, arching upward, seeking more of my mouth. She’s so damn responsive.
    I slide my tongue inside her and fuck her with short, rapid strokes. The taste of her is pure heaven.
    She whimpers and her hands tighten in my hair, pulling me close as I work my tongue over her clit, and my fingers inside her pussy. The sounds she’s making are driving me insane.
    “Henry.” My name is a harsh moan on her lips, sending a thrill down my spine and making my cock jerk in response.
    Her muscles tighten around me, and I know she’s close, I can feel her body vibrating with the need of her release. I push harder until her body is shuddering beneath me, and she goes over the edge with a cry of pure pleasure.
    I can’t hold back the groan that rumbles from my chest as she comes against my mouth. I’ve never tasted anything so sweet.
    My self-control is disintegrating. If I don’t take her soon, I’m going to fucking explode. No other woman has done this to me, made me feel like this. She’s like a drug pouring through my veins, stripping away any willpower I have left.
    And I’m going to fuck her until she’s mindless with it, until her nightmares and fears are obliterated.  Until she has no other option but to admit she’s mine.
     
     
     

Chapter 8
     
    Keeley
     
    I fight to simply breathe. Even if I want to, I can’t resist his touch. All I can do is melt into him. Enjoy every heated sensation.
    I arch toward him, needing more, and a low, muted grown vibrates between my thighs.
    “You’re killing me.” His voice is rough, thick with arousal, his gaze dark, swirling with sexual power and something more. Something possessive.
    He crawls up the bed, then reaches over me, opening the drawer of the bedside table and pulling out a condom.
    “Don’t stop.”
    “Not even a possibility, sweetheart.” His cock springs free as he rolls his briefs down and over his thick, muscular thighs.
    I swallow hard at the size of him. When I look up and catch his gaze, his lips twitch up in a smug grin.
    He tears open a condom and rolls it over the length of his wide cock. Every muscle in his body seems to tense as he strokes himself, dark eyes never wavering from me. It’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. And the need to touch him, to feel him inside of me is overwhelming.
    When I reach out to run my hands down his chiseled abs, he catches my wrists and pulls me down, my back against the mattress, one heavy thigh between my legs.
    “You have no idea how much I’m going to enjoy being inside of you.”
    It’s been too long since I’d been touched. Too long since I’d felt the hard length of an erection pressed against me, because my senses are on overload, and I can barely form a cohesive thought.
    His lips are on mine, and he growls into my mouth, “Do you have any fucking idea how beautiful you are?”
    I’ve been told before, but I’ve never actually felt it until this moment.
    I need this. His touch. His kiss. Or maybe my brain just needs an excuse to take what my body demands.
    His thumb strokes across my clit and I swear I can feel the touch in every nerve ending in my body.
    It’s too much. My heart is racing, my breath coming hard and fast. My body aches for him in ways I never thought possible.
    “Please,” I cry