And as soon as he heard her attempt to breathe, as soon as he clocked the audacity of her inhale, he drove into her, spearing her through the core of her want—and nearly going blind in the satisfaction of doing so.
Her hands grazed down over his shoulders, her nails scraping into his skin as he thrust hard, his eyes rolling back, his toes curling. He could hear his own moans, his own desperate sounds of need and pleasure.
He finally got himself to leave her breasts, replacing the wet heat of his mouth with the possessive cup of his hands. It was only because he had to have her mouth. He had to have her tongue. He had to have all of her.
“Jasper…” she said raggedly against his mouth, which only pushed him further into madness, more chaotic and desperate with every snap of his hips.
He silenced her with his tongue, thrusting it into her mouth in a mimicry of what he was doing elsewhere. He anchored her hips, grinding himself into her, all coherent thought lost, all tenderness forgotten.
This was need at its most primal, at its most animal.
She clawed his arms, raking her nails down them as she planted her feet on the bed and thrashed against him, meeting him blow for blow. She cupped his arse again, pulling him deeper into her, kneading the muscle there, making little sounds of conquest in her throat.
When she tensed, her body going as taut as a strung bow, he sank himself to the hilt and rode out the waves of her pleasure, uncertain he could ever go back to being a man, a civilized, reasonable man.
The sounds she made. The feeling of her body clamping down on his erection. All of it was too much.
She had always been too much and now he was buried inside her.
He lost himself again, holding her hips in the palms of his hands as he crossed boundaries he would have sworn were permanent and unyielding. He crossed them over and over again, until there was nothing left in him.
Nothing at all.
For now.
For however long now would bless him.
He squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again, filling his lungs, willing the color in the world to slow and desaturate. His head was spinning. He didn’t know if he was sleepy or restless.
He didn’t even know if he was only one person anymore.
He didn’t even realize, for some time, that he had splayed himself out atop her, their legs threaded, his head sharing her pillow, with his nose buried in her hair. He was still inside her, though everything was murky and soft now, rather than a miasma of insanity.
He wasn’t certain how long she’d tolerated his weight there, her fingernails gone soft and soothing, tracing patterns over his back.
He knew, somehow, without looking or moving, that her eyes were open, that she was staring up at his ceiling while her mind filled with words and pictures. He could feel it through her skin, somehow. He could hear it bending the air.
“Yes,” he said gently, into her throat.
“Hm?” she said, her hands stumbling in their mindless caress of his back. “What did you say?”
“To all your questions,” he told her, shifting his weight gently to the side, into the mattress without having to peel himself away from her. “About when and how I wanted you. Yes.”
She hesitated and then tilted her head down to meet his eyes. “Really?”
He gave a soft, incredulous chuckle, his shoulders sagging, unsure if he should nod or shake his head. “Yes. Though that was the strangest interrogation I’ve ever been put through. Feel free to always find your answers like that.”
“I didn’t,” she said with a smirk. “You didn’t answer me until after.”
He slid his hand over her belly and grabbed her hand, linking his fingers through hers. “The price is getting to the after,” he suggested, unsure why he was suddenly feeling heat in his cheeksnow, after everything. “I think I’ve earned it.”
She watched their hands travel back to the midpoint between them, her eyes hooded and thoughtful. “Since we were young?”
He groaned, squeezing her fingers and putting his face back in her hair. “I already saidyes!”
“Yes, I know, but it raises many more questions!” she said, nudging him with her elbow. “And I need a pitcher of water if I’m going to have to get more answers in that particular fashion.”
He laughed then, the anxiety sparkling in his chest like the fizzing ends of fireworks, caught in a web of contradictory contentment. “You can have the water regardless, but you must not move from that spot while I fetch it.”
