Because I have to seal this moment. Seal myself to her.
“Yes,” she whispers against my lips.
And that is the only word I need. Together, we strip off my jeans and boxer briefs. With one finger, I hook the string of Greta’s thong and peel the pink scrap down her legs.
The woman I love—this woman who seems to think of everything, who knows just what is needed every moment—reaches under one of the inflated pillows and produces a condom.
My chuckle is breathy as I take it from her. “You blow my mind.” Because she did all of this for me. Dragged a whole campsite out here. Made us a bed. Hung fairy lights, for God’s sake.
All to show me that I am the one she loves.
I tear open the condom, shaking my head in so much fucking awe of her. “You blow my mind,” I say again.
“Actually, I’m saving that for later—” And I’d laugh, but then her impatient hand closes around my base, and my eyes almost roll back into my skull. “But right now, I need you inside me.”
When I’m not in danger of swallowing my tongue, I roll the condom down while Greta insists on helping.
It’s hardly help. Her touch is like a spark in a powder keg.
So once I have the damn thing on, I grip her wrists and thrust them over her head.
“Oh, Zach,” she mutters. “I knew you were holding back.”
I growl. “You have no idea.”
Her eyes lock with mine. They shine with indescribable love. I sink into the cradle of her thighs, and when the column of my cock presses down on her sex, we both moan. I move against her, rubbing my shaft into her clit, not daring to penetrate her just yet. I know I won’t last as long as I want to.
Hell, watching her eyes go half-lidded beneath me, feeling her pelvis rock against me, I might not last another ten seconds.
“Zach…Please…”
I cannot fucking handle her begging. Goddamn. It’s like being cupped by the balls. I gather her wrists in one and use the other to line up my crown to her cleft.
Her breath goes choppy. “Y-Yesss… Yesss… Don’t hold back.”
Oh, Jesus. Is my Greta asking me to fuck her hard?
I push inside of her, and the air is heavy with our cries. Her body grips me. She wraps her legs around me, and I know I’m in big trouble.
“Oh, God—”
“Yessss…”
Greta’s gazing up at me, those eyes still half-lidded. She clamps her bottom lip between her teeth as though trapping a growl as we thrust.
Fuck, she’s so hot.
Pleasure never looked so good.
A little frown creeps between her brows and she tugs her wrists in my grip, asking to be freed. I release her at once, even though I’m sure it’ll seal my fate.
Her hands fall onto my back and she pulls me in harder, ratcheting up the sensation, fraying my composure.
She locks eyes with mine, and for a moment, time loses its hold. I’m staring at her through a webcam for the first time, certain that the only things keeping me from disaster are the 1600 miles that separate us.
And then she’s standing in front of me, invading my space, infiltrating my senses, smashing a hat on top of my head and laughing in my face.
And then she is in my arms, scaring me to death, and I would do anything—anything—to save her.
