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She thrummed with want. It overwhelmed her.
He turned his hand, thumb almost there, but still, he didn’t touch her where she desperately needed him.
She wanted to scream her frustration but couldn’t get her throat to make a sound. Her hips began to buck, silently begging for more pressure.
More of him.
Her body was no longer hers.
It was all his.
His fingers left her, making her feel abandoned and bereft. But then, his body was there, right behind her, and he was huge and hard and hot, lifting her hips with his powerful arm, pulling her to her knees.
“Tell me you want me,” he whispered.
I want you.
She tried to say it but couldn’t speak.
His mouth was at her ear then, his soft lips caressing, his breath coming in harsh pants, fanning her cheek.“Talk to me,” he whispered hotly.
He held her fast, her body trembling so badly, and he thrust against her thigh once, showing her exactly what she was doing to him.
He wanted her.
I want you.
The words were soundless on her lips.
His arm slid out from under her, and he positioned himself behindher, his large hands on her hips, gripping tight.
She held her breath. Trembled in anticipation.
Waiting.
The feel of him probing and sliding caused such an ache that she thought she’d break apart if he didn’t fill her.
She wanted him to give her that.
Why didn’t he?
She moaned.
“Eve,” he whispered achingly.
His fingertips gripped her upper arm. Stroking.
Stroking again. Adam and stroking.
“Eve.”
Her name whispered by him again was enough to send her.
She bucked into the mattress wildly, coming and coming and coming, the waves so tall, she barely could crest them.
His hand squeezed her upper arm, fingertips digging hard. He held her as if to guide her through it all, his breath hot in her ear.“Eve…”
Finally, finally, she stopped convulsing.