Page 78 of The Rebel


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“God, you’re fucking perfect.” My forehead pressed against the center of her spine.

I couldn’t imagine sex that was better than this.

That could top what I was feeling right now.

I’d certainly never experienced it before.

But I would have to.

Because … fuck.

“Harder,” she pleaded.

I was all the way in, my hands on the bed, holding my weight, her body beneath mine, my dick fully swallowed and still because I just wanted to take this all in.

A sight that was beyond fucking beautiful.

A feeling insanely overwhelming.

And I finally said, “You want to come again?”

“Yes.”

“So fucking greedy.”

She reached underneath her ass, her fingers disappearing until I felt them on my sac.

“What are you doing, Rowan?”

“I’m making sure we both come.”

That was going to happen regardless. But the second I moved, she went in the opposite direction, allowing me to pull back to my tip, and then she met me in the middle.

There was nothing slow or tame about her motion.

Or mine.

We were hungry.

Feral.

Desperate with our thrusts.

And with each one, I grew closer.

I didn’t know if she understood what this night meant for us or what it signified, but I’d never felt this kind of need from her before.

The way she clutched me.

Held me.

Encouraged me to drive toward the deepest part of her.

“Rowan …”

“Yesss.”

“What the fuck are you doing to me?”

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