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He tumbles me onto the bed, coming down on top of me and pulling my hands over my head.
“You’re beautiful.” He buries his face in my neck, tickling my skin with his beard.
I’m far from laughing though as his lips bite and suck a path down my throat and into my cleavage where he pushes my bra aside, taking my nipple into his mouth. I moan, gripping his head as heat courses through me.
I wrestle him for the top position, but as always, I lose. One day I’ll get to take him for a ride, but for now, he frantically tears at my clothes, tossing each item over his shoulder as it comes away.
I run my hands over his body, mapping the slabs of muscle with sensitive fingertips. I’ve learned what he likes and dip my tongue into the base of his throat, nipping at his skin, grinning when he rewards me with a groan.
Soon, he’s moving over top of me, nudging my thighs open and sinking into me, stealing my breath, sending waves of pleasure through me. I tighten my arms around him, holding him close as his body undulates over mine, his arms wrapped around me. My legs come up of their own accord, wrapping around his waist, forcing him more tightly against my body.
He grips my face, looking down at me, his lips seeking mine while his gaze pins me in place.
We’ve done this dozens of times, but each time feels like the first. Keenan seems desperate in his passion, as if every moment we spend locked in each other’s embrace might be our last. Our lovemaking is intense, meaningful, utterly satisfying. But… it’s hard to lose myself when I know my partner is in his head, the ghosts of past lovers stopping him from losing himself in the moment.
I sink my nails into his shoulders. “Stay here with me.”
“I’m here, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his eyes glowing with warmth.
I run my hand down his face before lifting my hips to him, rocking against him, drawing a groan from him. “Stop thinking about my death.”
He freezes and I worry that I’ve ruined the moment. He looks at me in surprise, then rolls to his back with a groan, “I’m sorry, you deserve better than a broken wolf.”
“I want you, Keenan,” I say, running my hands over his chest. “Forget everything else. It’s just us here.”
He grips me around the waist and lifts me on top of him, his penis nestled between my thighs. I wriggle, widening my legs before reaching down and pushing his tip inside.
Sitting up, I sink onto him, taking his length.
“Fuck,” he moans, gripping my hips.
I dip into his head and see nothing but us, in this moment, wrapped up in each other.
Holding his gaze, I lift my hands, cupping my breasts, tugging my nipples. His eyes blaze with fire as he watches, his fingers biting into my hips. “Come with me, Keenan,” I whisper.
“Always,” he mutters.
There’s power in this kind of seduction, where I can dip into my lover’s thoughts, wrap my naked aura around his and take him for the ride of his life.
I rock on top of him, moving my hips rhythmically, taking us higher and higher, until we merge into one finely tuned instrument reaching for the crescendo. I tip my head back in ecstasy. My hair streams down my back, tickling my ass as I reach between our bodies and stroke my clit, riding the wave of pleasure even higher.
Keenan’s fingers bite into my hips, forcing me to maintain the rhythm until he shouts, his hips slamming into mine as he comes.
I rub my clit frantically until stars explode in my head and I’m collapsing on top of him.
He tucks my head under his chin and wraps one big hand over my hip before kissing my temple.
We don’t say anything, but we both know this time was different. This time he let me take control because he needed it. He’s been alone, going through the cycle of losing mates for so long, he’s stuck in a tragic loop. He’s told me it ends with me, so I’m determined that we’ll enjoy whatever time we have together.
“No more living in the past,” he says, smoothing the hair off my forehead and kissing me again. “I’m here with you now.” For as long as we have.
“Forever.” I snuggle under his arm and go to sleep.
The next morning, we hit the road early, heading straight for Mesa. My filming schedule has loosened but Zach still wants me close in case he needs to reshoot anything. Most of the footage has gone into editing and now we’re down to the last scene.
“Look.” Keenan points out the windshield as we approach the lot. “Jessica is about to do her big stunt.”
Sure enough, I see a small crowd milling around the train car sitting on a set of fake tracks. The entire thing is rigged to simulate the movement of a train without the train actually going anywhere. The stunt vehicle sits motionless next to the train and Jessica is standing on the back talking to Wesselman.
