Ty loved that first push into Imogen. She always made the same sound—a little gasp of appreciation—and that totally turned him on. As did the feel of her wet and willing body surrounding him. He couldn’t get enough of her. He loved touching her body, loved making her insensible, got off on the sight of her biting her lip, her eyes half-closed, the beauty of her when she snapped her head back and had a really hard orgasm.

Now looking down at her, her body relaxed, her dark hair spilling over her shoulders, her creamy pale skin smooth beneath his fingers as he held her and thrust into her, Ty felt something big and strong and shocking rise up in him. He wanted to pleasure her, worship her, care for her, protect her. Be the one who had those denim blue eyes trained on him while she had every orgasm. He wanted to be with her.

And instead of scaring the shit out of him, the thought had him thrusting harder, faster, groans sneaking out as he started to lose control. She had very obediently crossed her ankles, which kept him in position, and she raised her hips very slightly to meet him, a hot and heady subtle invitation. He suspected he was doing things with Imogen she hadn’t experienced with other men, and that only added to his own passion.

He would have never in a million years thought his sex life was in any way lacking, but his entire past paled to the satisfaction he got from burying himself in Imogen, and when she bit the tip of her index finger, he came inside her, a pulsing, hot orgasm that had him groaning loud enough to be heard back in Charlotte.

As soon as he could speak, he apologized. “Sorry, I’m sorry, I should have pulled out.” It was rude and insensitive at this point in their relationship to just go for it inside her, even if he was pretty certain nothing on planet Earth could have made him stop. The position, her body, the lack of a condom . . . he only had so much control and Imogen shattered it.

“Why? I told you I’m on the pill,” she said, her voice husky and muffled by the sleeping bag.

“Yeah, but most women aren’t thrilled with the aftereffects of this.” Ty started to pull out, but Imogen grabbed his hip.

“Don’t. Not yet. I like to feel you pulsing in me.”

Which was why he adored her. Ty stopped moving, wishing he could rest his weight on her, but knowing that would crush her.

“I want you to come in me,” she said. “And I want you to lie down on top of me now like you really want to do.”

“Really?” He ran his fingers across her back, raising goose bumps. He did want to do just that. “I shouldn’t.”

“‘The Lady doth protest too much, methinks,’ ” she murmured.