Because he was worried that she was afraid. Because he hadn’t wanted to take advantage of her or the moment.

And that only made her want to pleasure him all the more. But she was feeling restless.

She pressed her own fingers down between her legs and tried to ease the ache as she worked him with her mouth.

“Don’t,” he said, his voice rough.

He grabbed hold of her hand and took it away from herself.

“That’s for me to do. You have to wait.”

She was ready to call him out on his extremely unfair behavior, but the problem was, he probably had a point considering she was one up on him in orgasm land.

Though he was probably a great many up on her when it came to having them with someone.

But not with each other. That was the thing.

This whole thing that was happening with each other was singular and different, and she didn’t want to sully it by bringing in other people. Not at all.

So she obeyed, which was uncharacteristic of her, but felt right in the moment.

And she continued to pleasure him with her mouth until he moved her away and lifted her against him, kissing her mouth and sliding those rough fingers down between her thighs as he kissed her deeper and deeper still. As he stroked her, light and teasing, then firm and intense, pushing the pleasure that centered there into a white-hot inferno. One arm was wrapped around her like a steel band, pressing her breasts against his hard chest as he continued to kiss her; the other hand relentlessly teasing her between her legs. And when he pushed a finger inside her, his eyes were blazing into hers.

She couldn’t breathe. And for a moment she felt like splintering glass. The cracks growing and expanding until she shattered completely. And when she did, he caught her in his strong arms and laid her down on the bed.

He was poised above her, positioned between her thighs.

And suddenly, she couldn’t breathe.

The blunt head of his arousal pressed against the slick entrance to her body, and he began to fill her. Ryder.

Him.

Inside her.

And it was like the air changed between them, like he could feel the difference, too. Like the whole world had tilted on its side, and whatever roots she had been so certain were there only a few minutes before were twisted and gnarled and unfamiliar to her.

Like she didn’t know who she was or where she might be going. Or which way the world spun or why.

He was inside her.

And it was almost too much to take. Too big to breathe around.

He was over her, in her, breathing her same air. And when he lowered his head, a shudder racking his big frame, something inside her cracked.

Because he was shaking.

Her mountain.

And if even her rock could tremble, she didn’t know if they could survive.