Holding his gaze, remaining silent, I went for the buttons on his trousers.

He lifted his hands and cupped my jaw in both.

“My love,” he said.

That was right.

I was his love.

He loved me.

This beautiful man…

This loving father…

This loyal friend…

This fearsome warrior…

He loved me.

He loved me, loved me, loved me.

I reached into his leathers and pulled out his cock.

He grunted and the pads of his fingers dug into my skin, but he did not move away.

I stared into his eyes as I stroked him until he was hard, and only then did I let him go. I did this in order to plant my hands in his wide chest again and shove.

He went down on his arse on the pallet.

He was barely settled there, knees high, when I climbed on.

Still gazing deep into his eyes, I reached between my legs, shoved aside the body stocking, grasped his shaft in my other hand, positioned him, and bore down.

He growled, his fingers curling around the cheeks of my arse.

I whimpered, gripped his neck in both hands…

And I rode.

I took him, and retreated, took him, and retreated, bounding on his cock, gazing into his eyes, not caressing, not kissing, not speaking.

And he let me.

Let me handle him.

Let me take him.

Let me use him.

On these thoughts, the tears came.

“Ellie,” he whispered, his tone ragged, his hands gliding up my spine.

I moved one of mine away so I could shove my face in his neck.

There, I said, “I need you to climax.”

One of his hands instantly changed direction, but as it came around the front, I caught it by the wrist and put it back to my arse.

“No.” I lifted my head to look at him. “You. Just you.”

“I can’t.”

He couldn’t.

Goddess, I knew he couldn’t.

He couldn’t take from me without giving.

“Please,” I begged, squeezing him with the walls of my sex, watching him bare his teeth at the feel, the sight of that making me automatically squeeze again, moving faster atop him.

His voice was thick when he replied, “I’ll try.”

I clasped his jaw in my hands and rode him, my face close, our noses brushing, our breaths mingling, our gazes locked.

“Darling,” he gritted, his fingers digging into my arse.

“Yes, Cass,” I breathed.

“Elena,” he groaned, taking over, both hands moving to my hips, slamming me into his cock.

His grunt drove up inside of me as he released my arse to grasp my throat and hold me where I was as his neck arched back, and he jetted inside me.

I watched it move over his handsome face, feeling his powerful body spasm under mine, and when his head fell forward, his forehead resting on my shoulder, I pressed my face again into his neck.

And my body bucked with my sob.