Page 139 of When Love Takes Root

The smile came back before I could stop it.

Josiah’s voice rasped against my mouth. “I’m trying to take my time with you.”

I squeezed around him again, softer this time.

His eyes darkened.

“Celeste.”

My name came out like a warning, but his hips betrayed him. He pressed deeper, slow and heavy, and my smirk dissolved into a gasp. The bed shifted beneath us. His chain dragged against my skin. His hand slid under my thigh and lifted me higher against him, changing the angle until the next stroke made my eyes close.

“There,” he growled. “Keep looking at me.”

I opened my eyes because his voice had put my body under instruction before my pride could object.

His jaw flexed.

“That’s where you feel me.”

“Yes.”

He moved again, and the sound I made warmed the space between our mouths. His palm covered my breast, thumb stroking slow circles while his hips kept that same deep rhythm. The pleasure started low, spreading through my stomach and down my thighs, but I kept watching him too. Watching the way his lashes lowered when I tightened around him. Watching his mouth fall open when I dragged my nails down his back. Watching the sweat at his temple catch the morning light.

He wasn’t just giving.

He was receiving me too.

That made the moment feel fuller.

Realer.

I touched his face and brushed my thumb along his beard. “You feel good too.”

His expression shifted like the words had slipped under his ribs.

“Say that again,” he uttered.

“You feel good too.”

His groan came rougher this time. He kissed me hard, then softer, then pressed his forehead to mine while his hips rolled into me with more weight.

“That’s what I needed.”

My chest tightened.

I held his face between my hands, keeping him close while my body learned the rhythm. His skin was hot beneath my palms. His breath moved over my lips. The room smelled like him and us, clean sheets turning warm, citrus fading beneath sweat and need. Somewhere above us, the air conditioner hummed, but all I could really hear was him breathing harder every time I met him back.

I clenched around him again.

His control slipped in a rough exhale.

“There you go. You know what you’re doing,” he murmured.

I didn’t.

Not completely.

But I knew what his face looked like when I made him feel good. I knew what his body did when I pulled him closer. I knew the groan that left him when I stopped hiding from my own pleasure and gave him mine with both hands.