“You okay, baby?” he whispered, praying she was. Gritting his teeth, holding himself still when every cell in his body urged him to move. Fast. Hard. Deep.

Her hands slid around his shoulders, fingernails biting deep. “Better than okay. I need you to move. Now, Elijah. Please.”

His eyes closed for just a moment, his heart turning over at that last little breathless plea. “You tell me if you’re uncomfortable, Siena,” he ordered.

“Just move,” she pleaded again.

He withdrew and thrust deep, driving through her tight muscles, feeling the burn engulf him. Watching her face. Her eyes. Looking for signs of discomfort. He plunged deep again and again, rocking her body with every stroke. The breath left her in a rush. Her eyes glazed. Her lips parted. She was beautiful. Instinctual. Her hips moving to meet his.

The heat built. Tension coiled. He heard it in her ragged gasp. Saw it in her dazed expression. Her nails dug in, a bite of pain that added to building fire. His hand shifted to support the thigh of her injured leg, making certain not to jar that long, jagged wound while he picked up the pace. He kept her on her side, so that there was no pressure on her back, only the driving cock between her legs.

“Harder, Elijah,” she said. “I need you to . . .” She broke off as he deliberately switched angles, using her legs to tilt her hips toward him so he could press down into her.

Her ragged gasp was music to him, adding to the pleasure threatening to overwhelm him. He stayed ahead of it, not wanting to end this. He could live there, connected to her, feeling her body squeezing until the friction seared him. He drove harder, giving her what she needed, watching her face as her orgasm raced over her. She gasped. Her eyes went wide with shock. She looked so beautiful he nearly closed his own eyes to lock that image in his brain for all time.

He kept moving, taking her back up fast, so fast her body didn’t have time to rest before the next one hit, this time much stronger, this time taking him with her. He buried his face in her neck and let it take him, the burn. The fire. The pleasure spinning through him with such force he thought it might take the top of his head off. He buried his face in her neck and stayed still. Planted in her. Living in her. Feeling that burn pounding through her, spreading like a wildfire.

“Baby,” he whispered, when he could breathe again. “Nothing like you in my life. Not. Ever.”