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His movements became frantic.

Hard.

Fast.

Possessive.

Hands tightened in my hair to guide me where he wanted me.

My complete surrender.

But I’d been there all along.

Surrendered.

His.

His in the shadows where he’d carved himself out on my heart years ago.

But I wanted to stand in the daylight with him. Make him see that he didn’t have to be afraid. That he deserved to be loved every bit as much as I did.

“Paradise, Elena.” Coarse words rasped out of him. “Nothing better than this sweet, dirty mouth. Nothing.”

A whimper rolled out of me with his praises, and I tipped my head back in a plea.

His expression was feral. Wild and untamed.

Possession rushed from him on inundating waves.

“Mine. You’re mine, aren’t you?” It was close to incoherent, and I could have imagined the words if I hadn’t felt them entwine with my spirit.

My eyes told him everything that he needed to know.

I’d always been and I’d always be.

If he would just take what he’d been offered.

Need tumbled and curled in my belly, his lust and desperation flooding into me.

I squirmed, and I rubbed my thighs together in search of friction with each furious, rigid stroke.

“Do you touch yourself thinking about me?” His question raked the fiery air.

I couldn’t speak, could only nod, wasn’t ashamed with the admission.

“Then do it now. Touch yourself, Little Apple. Want you to come when I do.”

I fumbled to shove my hand between my quaking thighs, and I started rubbing my clit. Rocking as I did. Pleasure immediately flickered and flashed just from the slight brushes of my fingers.

Not surprising since I was already almost there from getting to touch him this way.

Our connection was a glittery glaze that covered the room.

The lights seemed to flicker, the energy swirling and alive.

A tornado of emotion that could no longer be tapped.

Emotions I knew he was terrified of, but they stormed between us anyway.