"You," she breathes, voice raw and sure. "All of you."
The trust in her voice guts me. No hesitation. No fear. Open, willing surrender. It seizes something deep in my chest and twists, hard.
I settle between her thighs, our mouths still moving lazily, like we can't stop tasting each other. Her legs wrap around my hips, heels pressing into the backs of my thighs as I guide myself to her entrance.
And then,
God.
She stretches to take me, inch by aching inch, her breath catching against my mouth as her body opens to fit mine. The sensation is exquisite, tight, hot, enveloping. She gasps, hands fisting in the fur as her back arches, and I still inside her, fighting for control I didn't know I'd need.
My forehead drops to hers. I breathe her in, vanilla and need and a sweetness I'll chase for the rest of my life. "Are you okay?"
She nods, eyes heavy-lidded and burning with trust. "You feel like ... everything."
I start to move. A slow roll of my hips, a rhythm that builds with every breath, every gasp, every graze of skin. Her nails scrape down my back, and it drives me harder, deeper. We fall into something wild and consuming, a tangle of limbs and breath and whispered curses. My name on her lips is a lifeline, anchoring me when I feel like I'm unraveling.
She moves with me, fluid and greedy, her hips meeting mine in a rhythm that grows more urgent by the second. Her thighs grip my waist, pulling me deeper. Her moans grow louder, uninhibited, breathy declarations that undo every shred of control I have left.
My thrusts become relentless, driven by a need I can't temper. Our bodies slap together in a cadence that feels like worship and abandon all at once. I can't get close enough, deep enough, can't press myself far enough inside to satisfy the craving she's woken in me.
Her head tips back, exposing her throat, and I take it with my mouth, sucking, biting, soothing. She tastes like sweat and sin and everything I've ever wanted. Her fingers tangle in my hair, anchoring me there, dragging me back to her mouth.
"Look at me," she pants, voice cracked and breathless.
I lift my gaze to hers, and the world shatters.
The look in her eyes floors me. Desire, yes. But more. So much more. Affection, depth, something close to love. Something so real I miss my next breath.
"Maddy," I choke out, her name dragged from my chest.
"I know," she says, her voice shaking. "Sweetheart, I feel it too."
That word, sweetheart, breaks me.
Our movements grow frantic. Desperate. Like we're chasing something out of reach, something essential and eternal. I grip her hips, angle deeper, watching her fall apart beneath me. She clings to me, nails digging in, her cries getting higher, rougher.
"Please," she whimpers, eyes wide, pupils blown. "Mason, please"
"I've got you," I groan, voice shredded. "Let go for me."
She does, gloriously.
Her entire body bows, mouth parting in a silent cry as pleasure ripples through her in waves. I watch her break and rebuild in my arms, and it undoes me.
I follow her over the edge, the release hitting hard, hot and overwhelming. I bury my face in her neck as I spill inside her, lost to the moment, to her, to this.
Afterward, we collapse in a breathless heap, tangled and slick with sweat, her leg slung over mine, her hand splayed across my chest.
The only sound is our uneven breathing, the occasional creak of the loft settling around us, and the sound of my heartbeat still hammering as I come back to myself.
The late afternoon light has deepened into something molten and golden, washing across our bare skin like it knows what we've done. Like it approves.
Maddy rests her cheek on my chest, her breath soft against my skin. I stroke her back, feel her shiver and settle.
"Well," she says after a long pause, her voice wrecked and amused, "I hope the bear's review reflects the final act."
I laugh, low and rough. "If it didn't, it wasn't paying attention."
