A tender pain pinches inside my core. My thighs clench around him, coaxing him closer. “I need you inside me,” I say, my voice thick with that demand. “Alex, now—”

It’s the plea of his name that levels him. With aggressive urgency, he reaches above to grip the rock overhang, gaining leverage as he lifts me onto the smooth precipice of stone to position me right where he wants me.

A moment where our eyes lock and everything between us—past and present, lecherous desire and venom—is said in that exchange before he slams inside me with a devastating thrust.

I sink my nails into his back as his face hovers above mine, those intense blue eyes regarding every shift in my expression. For once, I have no control over what he sees.

He’s inside me, and I’m shaking.

I’m numb and yet I feel everything. He releases his hold on the rock and places his hand alongside my head as he pulls out only to drive in deeper, filling me completely. I want him to smother me with his body so he can’t read me—but his gaze won’t stray. He’s greedy and wants to observe every reaction.

My knees dig into his sides as I lift my hips to meet his forceful thrusts. The sound of our flesh crashing against each other ricochets off the rock and water, amplifying every lustful craving.

I’m just as greedy, loving the way his eyes crease, the way his features tense, straddling the edge of elation and torment. Then he’s kissing me with a fire meant to sear, meant to make me feel all the anguish and carnal sin devouring him.

And I want to feel it. For the first time, I’m envious of his ability to experience such intense passion. A bitter seed burrows in the hollow shell where those dormant emotions lie and take root.

He’s touching me everywhere, as if he can’t decide where to focus. Fury brims in his gaze, a wanton rage that begs to be sated. “Fuck, Blakely. You’re so damn beautiful it kills me.”

I close my eyes. I don’t want to see him or hear his breathy words of admiration. I focus on the physical indulgence only, letting the hedonist within dominate. The first burst of yearning crests, sending a pleasurable shockwave through my body.

The rock beneath us is cold and ungiving, but our bodies are furnaces, creating a torrid den out of the harsh elements. We’re unfeeling of anything other than the unbearable hunger that makes us slaves to our senses.