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His huge body made her feel small, but not helpless. She knew that she was fully in control. His arms circled her body, lifting her hips to meet his gentle thrusts. She was surrounded, enveloped. She loved surrendering to the rhythm he set.
He moved forward, pushing into the center of her, kissing her deeply. Sweetly.
“Wrap your legs around me. Find the angle that feels the best,” he said.
That low, commanding voice of his melted her into a puddle.
She lifted one leg and then the other, hooking them over his firm buttocks. He began to move again and this time it felt better, smoother.
One of his hands moved behind her and cradled her skull in his large palm, his fingers spanning her neck.
He made her feel so cherished. The way he looked at her as if she were the loveliest thing he’d ever seen.
That look in his eyes, the one that told her she was enough, with all her flaws, her fears, and her rough edges.
She wasenough.
He didn’t want anyone else. He didn’t want her to be anything else.
All her life she’d been attempting to fit someone else’s mold. And for what? Because she craved this—approval, acceptance. Understanding.
Communion. Togetherness.
Their bodies moving together, linked into a whole.
She was enough. More than enough.
She basked in the knowledge, kissing his lips, tasting the brandy on his tongue and feeling replete... complete.
“Mine, you’re mine. All mine,” she said fiercely, spreading her thighs wide, clasping his buttocks to her with her heels possessively. “Give yourself to me, Drew. Not just your body. Give me your emotions. Tell me what you’re feeling.”
“It feels so good,” he gasped. “It’s like your body is clasping me, hugging me, and I want to drive home. All the way home.”
They moved together faster now. Less controlled. He pounded into her and she could take it—all of it—and beg for more.
Sweat sheen, hands slippery on his back, shoulders so thick and huge above her.
Short, fast strokes that bounced her breasts against his chest.
Then long, luscious slow thrusts so deep inside her it made her want to scream. She bit his shoulder, hard, and he growled, capturing her hands and lifting them over her head.
That’s what she wanted. She wanted to feel his complete ownership.
She was his and it was a sweet, hot surrender.
Skin-to-skin contact, feeding her soul.
“I want to breathe through your mouth. See through your eyes,” she said.
“I see you, Mina. Only you. You’re so. Damned. Perfect.”
More deep thrusts, nearly lifting her off the bed. Her nipples sensitive from brushing against his chest. Arms stretched over her head.
Raw emotion on his face. His lips in a grimace, head thrown back, neck thick and muscles straining.
“Come for me, Drew,” she said.
And he did.
