“I missed this, too,” he says, pulling away just enough to watch. “I want to see you come, Scarlett. Can you come for me, beautiful?”

“Yes,” I gasp. “Yes.”

He circles his fingers inside me a few more times, and I shatter, clenching and unclenching around his fingers as he tastes my mouth with his tongue.

As soon as I can breathe again, he releases me. We waste no time shedding clothes on our way to the bedroom. I don’t know where anything ends up, and I don’t care. We’re too frantic for each other, too eager. Clothes are tomorrow’s problem. Right now, we’re only skin and heat and need.

I lie on my bed. Ryan takes off his glasses and lays them carefully on the nightstand before crawling over me, dark eyes glinting in the moonlight that filters in from the window. He kisses my hip, then the valley of my waist, my stomach, the underside of my breast. Swiftly, he draws a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, nipping at it with his teeth. I gasp and rub my legs together, trying to relieve some of the pressure already building again between my thighs. My palm meets his hard length, and he lets out a gruff moan into my chest as I pump my hand a few times.

Quickly, without warning, he circles his broad hands around my waist and flips me onto my stomach. I arch my back, which pushes my ass up into the air. He rubs a hand over it and squeezes.

“I’ll never get tired of this view.” His voice is gravelly. He uses both hands to spread me open for him, then notches himself against my entrance.

“I missed you,” I say as I rock backward, taking him inside me. We both let out a noise of relief, and I gasp as he presses even further, filling me. Another thrust, and his hips meet my ass. I sigh, content.

There are no more words as he sets an unhurried pace. All the frenzied need from earlier is gone now, replaced with a tenderness punctuated by our soft sighs and the sound of our skin meeting in the darkness. At one point, he reaches around to place a warm palm on my stomach, then drags it downward to stroke my already-sensitive clit.

“Can you come for me again, beautiful?” he asks, his voice reverent and full of emotion.

“Yes,” I breathe, arching my back even more so he can reach the spot I need. “Can you use a little more pressure?”

He obliges, and I cry out, burying my face in the blanket in front of me. His thrusts start coming harder and more erratic. I feel him stiffen inside me, and with another swirl of his finger, I come again. While waves of pleasure are still crashing into me, he shudders his own release.