Her body exploded as if on command. Her muscles loosened just as he pulled out, only to clamp back down as he slammed into her again. She bucked against him.

She held on tight to her anchor. Her Brick as the world spun around them.

Every time she contracted around him, he ejaculated deeper into her. In sync, their bodies rode out their world-ending orgasms together, using each other to maximize the absolute pleasure.

Soul-changing. There would be a definitive before and after in her life. Before she’d felt Brick come inside her and after. It was warm and welcoming and messy and perfect. And she wanted more.

“My girl. My Remi,” he whispered brokenly as his hips bucked against her, drawing out the last quakes of their orgasms together.

30

Brick woke in the dark, awareness slowly creeping in through his senses. His body felt loose-limbed and well-used. The tension that had coiled within him for years was gone, replaced by something else. Something…warm. Almost glowing. Something that spread through him, waking him up and making him feel alive.

The air and sheets smelled like them. Their unique scent.

She was unsurvivable. A man didn’t just get up and walk away from Remi Ford. He stared up at the sky and wondered what the hell had just brought him to his knees.

Had he known it would be like this? Is that why he fought so hard to stay away?

There was a clear demarcation in his life. Before he’d made her his. And after. Now.

He reached for her in the dark, intending to pull her warm little body into his arms and feel the beat of her heart. To remind himself it hadn’t been a dream.

But she wasn’t there.

He sat upright and tried to peer through the darkness. The warm, glowing thing inside him gave way to fear. Sharp and claw-like. Where was she? Had she left?

An irrational panic sliced through his post-orgasmic bliss. Kicking off the tangle of sheets, he found the bedside lamp and slapped it on. Her side of the bed was rumpled. She’d been there. It hadn’t been a dream. He realized she’d slept in the dark with him and wondered if he’d made her feel safe enough.

Maybe that’s why she’d left.

He found his underwear halfway under the bed and dragged them on.

When he burst out of the bedroom door, he found her immediately, and his body reacted with a mixture of relief and longing.

She was curled up in one of the chairs in front of the dark windows over the water. Her hair was a curtain of fire that he longed to run his fingers through. Those slim fingers were wrapped around a mug. She had music playing softly from a speaker on the table. Some kind of instrumental jazz. He wondered what it looked like to her.

She studied him with an unreadable expression.

“What’s wrong?” he rasped, his voice still thick with sleep.