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“Look at me.”

She does.

I push in slowly, inch by inch, and watch her mouth fall open. She’s tight, and she just came. I stop halfway and let her adjust, then give her the rest until I’m buried inside her.

She exhales against my mouth. “Zander.”

“I know.”

I start to move. Long, deep strokes, pulling back until just the tip is inside her, then sinking back in. Every time I drag back over that spot, her breath hitches, and my jaw clenches with the effort of keeping it slow.

I keep driving into her. I run my hands over her skin, cup her breasts, and kiss her until neither of us can breathe.

“Don’t stop,” she whispers.

“If you don’t want me to stop,” I say, sitting back on my knees and pulling her with me so my cock stays inside her, “take the driver’s seat for a while. Ride me. Show me how you like it.”

Her eyes flare. She braces her good hand on my shoulder and starts to rock her hips, sinking me deeper and grinding her clit against the base of my cock. Within a minute, she’s moving wildly.

“God, you feel good,” I groan.

I let her have the control. For now.

I lower my head to her breasts and take a nipple in my mouth, grazing it with my teeth, while my hands explore every curve of her body. When I look up, her eyes are frenzied. There’s sweat on her brow, and strands of hair are stuck to her cheek. She’s getting close. I can feel it.

“My turn,” I say, and push her back down onto the bed.

I lace my fingers through her good hand and press it into the mattress above her head. The braced wrist I lift carefully and set beside it, my hand wrapped around her forearm, well above the brace.

“Keep it there.”

She nods.

Now I set the pace. Deep and slow, grinding into her at the end of every stroke so my pelvis rubs against her clit.

“Zander, fuck me harder. Faster.”

So, I do. I pump in and out of her faster, harder.

Her thighs tighten around my hips first. Her breathing goes shallow and quick, and she stops making words altogether. A flush climbs from her chest up her throat. Her stomach tenses under mine. I can feel her getting closer in the way she grips my cock every time I push in, a little tighter, holding on a little longer each time I pull back.

Her heel digs into the back of my thigh. Her fingers squeeze mine hard enough to hurt.

Then she goes still. Back arched, mouth open, not a sound, for one long second.

And then it hits her.

Her pussy clamps down on me, hard, then pulses in strong, steady squeezes that pull at my cock with every one. She cries out, then again, louder. Her hips jerk up against mine, trying to take me deeper, and I give her what she wants. I stay buried inside her and grind against her clit while she rides it out.

Her whole body shakes. Her thighs quiver against my sides. Her eyes squeeze shut, then open and find mine, and she holds my gaze while she comes. She keeps coming. Every time I think it’s easing, I roll my hips, and it starts again. She gasps my name, then just gasps.

When it finally slows, she’s still twitching around me, small aftershocks that make her breath hitch. Her skin is slick with sweat, and she trembles from her shoulders to her toes.

That’s all I can take.

I let go of her hands, grip her hips, and drive into her with even more intensity. A few thrusts later, I come so hard I can’t keep quiet, and I don’t try. The sound probably carries through half the house.

I don’t regret it. Maybe Jarek hears it. Maybe it eases the sting of jealousy I couldn’t admit to myself before now.