Then, with his gaze locked with mine, he slowly pulled almost all the way out and then he slid back in, dragging the motion out. I clenched his arm as he shifted his weight to it. He cupped my breast, his thumb circling the sensitive bud.

I was lost in his eyes, lost in the way his body was making me feel. His body trembled with restraint. “You have no idea how badly I just want to fuck you,” he said, giving a little shake of his head.

Which was what he had warned he wanted to do, but he was holding back. I stretched up, kissing him. His lips parted, and my tongue spiked against his. “It’s okay,” I whispered, my lips brushing his as I spoke.

His forehead rested against mine as he pumped his hips slowly. “Roxy . . .”

“Fuck me,” I told him softly. Those two words burned my body in many different ways.

Reece groaned as his hips reared up and then slammed back down. His mouth found mine as whatever control he had completely snapped. He moved furiously, the rhythm almost impossible to keep up with.

He reached up, capturing my hand. Like before he brought it to his lips and then threaded his fingers through mine. He pressed our joined hands to the mattress as he ground his hips against mine.

Acute pleasure pounded through me. I kicked my head back, squeezing his hand as the tension coiled tighter and tighter. Unbelievably, his pace picked up and the headboard smacked against the wall. That and the sounds of our bodies drove me over the edge.

I came with a sharp cry that echoed throughout the room, my body shuddering around his. The release kicked the air out of my lungs. The pleasure came in waves, tossing me up until I thought I’d float right through the ceiling or that my bones would turn to mush.

For a wondrous moment, I knew how I could capture this . . . this feeling on canvas. It would be a sky shaded in violets and deep blues—blues that matched his eyes. It would be the sky moments after a tumultuous storm.

Reece dropped his head into the space between my neck and shoulder as he let go of my hand. Sliding his arm under my lower back, he lifted my hips off the bed. He moved over me and in me feverishly. When he pressed in as deep as he could go, his breath was against my ear. He grunted out my name as his body spasmed, his embrace tightening until there wasn’t any space between us, and I held on, running my fingers through the soft ends of his hair. I held him as that storm passed, as my pounding heart slowed.

Many moments passed before Reece rolled onto his side. His arm was still around me. He was still in me. “Sorry,” he murmured thickly. “I was probably crushing you.”

My cheek was plastered against his chest. “I didn’t mind.”

His other hand found the way into the dense mess of my hair and cradled the back of my head. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“No. Quite the opposite,” I murmured. “It was . . .”

“Fucking perfect?”

My giggle was muffled. “Yes, it was fucking perfect.”

He tipped my head back, and I blinked my eyes open. He was grinning down at me in a way that twisted my insides into delicious, little knots. Dipping his head, he kissed me softly. “Let me take care of this, okay?”

I bit down on my lip as he pulled out. He swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood, and I got a great view of a perfect male backside. He disappeared out into the hall, and I all but sprawled across the bed. A cool breeze drifted over my bare legs, and it must’ve been coming from the closet, but I was too exhausted to reach down and pull the blankets up or shut the door.

Closing my eyes, I let out a sated sigh. My muscles were absolutely useless and there were parts of my body that were slightly sore, but it did nothing to detract from the wonderful happy buzz that was trilling through me.

“Beautiful,” Reece murmured, returning to the bed. Placing his hands on either side of me, he nuzzled the stretch of my neck not covered with my hair. “Is there any way I can convince you to sleep like this every night?”

Another silly giggle wiggled its way out of me as I peeled one eye open. “Maybe.”

“If I ask nicely?”

“Sounds about right.”

He tugged the comforter out from under my lax body and then the bed dipped under his weight. A huge part of me expected him to make a quick exit at this point. I guessed because I wasn’t sure what we were doing, what he thought we were doing, so I was surprised when he pulled the cover up over us and then rearranged me so my back was pressed against his chest.

This was . . . it was good, and I thought it had to mean something more than just hooking up or needing to work out his frustrations.

Sleepy, I looked over my shoulder at him. He’d turned the light off upon his return, but I could make out the sharp slope of his cheekbone. “Are you doing okay?”

He didn’t respond for a moment and when he did, he proved that he got what I was asking. “A lot better. Sorry to come into your house like that. It’s just that . . . seeing lives end for no real reason and not being able to do anything to change it doesn’t get easier.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” I wiggled around so I was facing him. His eyes were open and there was a soft smile on his face. “I’m glad that I could . . . that I could be here for you.”

“Me, too.”

“I know it has to be hard.” Before I could think about what I was doing, I placed a quick kiss against his lips. “I wish it was different.”

The arm around my waist tightened. “Me, too.” He kissed my forehead. A moment passed as my eyes fell shut once again. “Make you a deal? If you let me borrow some eggs in the morning, I’ll make you a kickass omelet you’ll be wanting me to make every morning.”