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soaked .” He kissed me, hard, his hand pushing at my pants. “Get ‘em off. Now.”
    He sat up and dragged my pants down my legs, taking my panties with them. Tank scrunched around my waist, floppy wool socks still on my feet, he braced himself on one arm as his other hand cupped my sex. “Tell me what you need,” he said hoarsely.
    I bucked my hips against his hand. “Touch me.”
    One long finger slid through my labia, bumping against my clip. “Like this?” Gentle, almost too soft, and slow and steady, one finger bumping over my clit. Then two. I whined. “Or like this?” Those two fingers became one again, and he thrust it into me. I cried out, hips pumping in concert with his hand.
    A shudder worked its way through me when his thumb rolled over my throbbing clit. “So wet,” he whispered. “So damn hot.” He dropped his head and suckled a kiss at the curve of my neck, thrusting two fingers into me and twisting, crooking them as he withdrew.
    I was lost. Lost in the chaos he created, willing and eager to fall down that rabbit hole with him if it meant he’d keep going.
    The orgasm came out of nowhere. One second I was hot, aching, on the verge of begging for harder, faster, the next I bowed up, mouth open on a soundless scream as lightning-hot pleasure tore through me.
    He kissed me softly, bringing me down, my body pliant and boneless. “Beautiful.” He kissed me again, fumbling with the fly of his jeans.
    Panic crashed through my pleasure haze. Despite the most amazing orgasm of my life, I barely knew Alex. Despite what my body was telling me, my mind was waking up and the little voices were growing from whispers to shouts.
    Not yet .
    I wanted him. I wanted him more than I’d wanted any man, and the speed and ferocity of that need was scary, edging toward terrifying. I had to get control of this situation, and fast. Because if he got his pants off, if he touched me now, I’d throw all caution aside and beg him to fuck me.
    I nudged his hand aside and opened his fly. Tipping my head back for a kiss, I pushed at his jeans, grasping the waistband of his boxers and working them over his hips. “Get on your back,” I murmured.
    He complied, and I sat up, blushing as I pulled off my tank and socks. I wasn’t going to let my insecurities get in the way of his enjoyment. Flashing a shy smile, I went to work on his boots, then dragged his jeans and boxers the rest of the way down his legs.
    Spread out before me, firelight throwing shadows and light across his dusky skin, he was gorgeous. Gorgeous, and mine to play with.
    I slithered up and started with his neck, licking and nibbling my way to his chest, my hands busy learning the lines of his abs, pinching his nipples, loving how his skin warmed to my touch. His hips shifted in restless little jerks, and out of the corner of my eye I saw his cock, hard and long and flat against his belly.
    His scent was fresh and icy somehow, the faint trace of laundry detergent mixing with his cologne. My nose loved it. I loved it. Kissing over his pecs, dragging my tongue over a nipple, I trailed a single finger along the underside of his dick, scraping my teeth over his nipple as I did so.
    He groaned.
    I withdrew my hand and brought it to my mouth. Eyes locked on his, I sucked on my fingers, one by one, giving each a thorough licking, moving on to my palm. He hissed out a breath as I closed my hand around his cock and squeezed, twisting my hand as I stroked up. I brushed my thumb over the head and kept it there, spreading the pre-come around.
    There was a certain sort of pride, of smugness, knowing it was me making him feel this way. That I'd caused this reaction. He was hot and steely in my hand, his arousal slicking his skin and mine. Up and down, up and down, harder then softer, fast then slow. I leaned in and nipped at his ear, my hand twisting up and down in earnest, his soft grunts and jerking hips telling me he was close already. So very, very close.
    “ Hannah