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I didn’t know why I was important enough that my experience with Mark mattered to him, but I wasn’t going to question it, not now. The fact that it did matter was enough.

That what I wanted mattered enough. Because it had been a long time since that had happened, too.

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I couldn’t read the look in his eyes as he slid his hands beneath my butt and lifted me, fitting the blunt head of his cock into my body. But something in it burned. He was so intense, almost too much to look at directly.

But I watched him as I felt him push inside me, thick, hot and hard, feeling my own flesh part before his, straining to accommodate him. I shuddered, gasping, digging my nails into the hard muscle of his shoulders.

He didn’t look away from me, not once, sinking deep and making me shudder and groan because he was big. But I’d taken him before and I took him now, tilting my hips so he could go deeper, wrapping my legs around his lean waist and arching up. My nipples scraped deliciously over his hard chest, the prickle of hair an added delight.

‘God,’ I whispered, looking up into his eyes. ‘You feel amazing...’

The ferocity in his expression stole my breath. He didn’t answer, only leaned down and covered my mouth with his, kissing me hard, an edge of desperation in it that I didn’t quite understand.

I could taste myself on his lips, but I didn’t care. It was like spice added to an already hot dish, building the heat even higher, and I kissed him back, hungry as he was.

He nipped on my bottom lip as he moved, lifting his hands to the arm of the couch behind my head and gripping it, then using it as leverage as he thrust hard, then harder still. Deep then deeper.

I could barely think now, the pleasure getting larger and larger inside me, the pressure of it becoming more and more intense.

Too much.

Dimly in some part of my brain I heard the warning. But I was too far gone to listen to it. The ecstasy of having him inside me, the furious pace he was setting too irresistible. I didn’t want to stop it.

I didn’t want it to end.

The heat of him was all around me, inside me. The heady musky scent of male arousal and clean sweat was an aphrodisiac that I’d never dreamt would turn me on as much as it was doing. And it was.

I slid my hands down his powerful back, feeling his hard body surge into me, digging my nails into his skin, holding on tight as he drove us both to the edge.

This is going to make you cry again.

I shut my eyes, kissing him hungrily, trying to lose myself in the taste of him and the feel of his cock thrusting into me, trying to lose myself in the pleasure and not think about the ache in my chest that was building as much as the pleasure was.

An ache I didn’t understand.

Just sex, huh?

I shoved the thought from my mind. ‘Harder,’ I whispered against his mouth. ‘Fuck me harder, Mr Evans.’

He made another of those low, sexy rumbling sounds, his rhythm intensifying until the cabin was full of the sounds of his flesh hitting mine, my gasps of pleasure and his own rough groans as we came closer and closer to the edge.

I dug my heels into the taut muscle of his butt, my nails scratching him as lights began to burst behind my eyes.

He moved harder, deeper, and something began to shift inside me, beginning to crack under the weight of all that pleasure. I felt tears begin to start behind my eyes, pinpricks of emotion stabbing through me.

I fought it, fought the release instinctively, not wanting to give away anything, but it was too late. He shifted his hand between my thighs and found my clit, stroking me as he thrust until I cracked apart completely and all the pleasure came flooding out.

I screamed into his mouth as it hit, my whole body arching and going rigid against his, electrified.

His grip tightened, holding me together as I fell apart in his arms, before getting even tighter as he slammed into me, chasing his own release. His thrusts got wilder, falling out of rhythm, before he tore his mouth from mine and turned his face into my hair, giving one last hard thrust, his body going rigid as he came.

I shut my eyes, blinking furiously to hold back inexplicable tears as he shuddered against me, my name whispered in a rough, dark voice against my skin.

God, what was wrong with me? Why was I getting so emotional again? It didn’t make any sense.

I felt good, so good. I shouldn’t want to cry about it.

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