She knelt in grass, but the water was a good inch around her knees and legs and Eli hadn’t cared. His body was a fierce machine, streaking fire through her. Flames raced up her skin. Electricity arced from his skin to hers. The sensations just built, one on the next. He never stopped, a relentless force driving her up higher and higher until she knew in another moment she would fly apart, shatter into a million pieces.

It didn’t matter, because Eli would find every single broken piece of her and put her back together again. Her breath hissed out of her lungs. She needed to fly. Wanted it. Reached for it.

“Not yet, baby. This time with me.” He wasn’t done. He kept going, forcing her to go with him.

“I don’t think I can wait,” she gasped, her voice a half plea.

But she would. She would wait. She would do as he demanded because he was Eli and she loved him. She loved that he was taking her on a wild, crazy ride she could barely comprehend. It was Eli and it didn’t matter that the pleasure threatened to kill her, she would do whatever he wanted, including getting his tattoo for him. Because she loved pleasing him and he moved heaven and earth to give her anything she wanted.

Her breath came in short ragged sobs and the tension coiled tighter and tighter until she thought she might really go insane with the need to explode. She clenched her teeth, using every ounce of discipline and self-control she had to hold back the orgasm that was so close, threatening to roar through her. Her body shook with the effort.

Eli reached around and caught her nipple between his thumb and finger, clamping down so that the pleasure streaked to her clit at the same time his cock bore down while he thrust deep.

“Now, baby,” he commanded softly. “This time with me. Together. Fly with me.”

His voice was hoarse, insistent, triggering the massive quake in her body. It rolled through her so hard even her stomach spasmed. There wasn’t a single cell in her body that didn’t feel the strength of the tidal wave as it ripped through her. She opened her mouth to scream her pleasure, but even her throat convulsed.

Her body flew apart, not her own, but he was there, surrounding her, holding her close to him, his breath warm on her back, his lips against the snug place where he wanted the tattoo. He nuzzled her with his rough, shadowed jaw.

“You better, Kitten? Need more? Because I can do more.”

She took a breath. She needed more from him. Not sex. Not making love, and he had made love to her, as rough and as aggressive as he was, she felt it.