He wasn’t gentle. There was nothing gentle about the way he took her. Savage. Brutal. He couldn’t stop the hard slap of his body against hers. It was too good. His hands moved over her. Possessive. His. All of her.

“Baby.” He said it softly. Her back was to him. She couldn’t see his face when he made the admission. “I’m loving you the only fucking way I know how.”

Her hips bucked back. Hard. Meeting his. Over and over. The sound of her ragged breathing, the soft little sobs of pleasure, all of it, every little whimper and plea, was music adding to the beauty surrounding him.

“Elijah.”

There it was. She was with him. He felt the wet, silken clasp of her body bite down hard, scorching hot, surrounding him with fire, gripping and milking, taking him over the edge. Taking him to that place only she could take him. He thrust several times and then collapsed over her, burying himself to the hilt. Holding her. Fighting for breath. So full of love for her he didn’t know what to do with it.

He kept her there, holding her soft body to him, her face turned from his because he had to get himself under control. She hollowed him out inside. Poured herself into that space and filled every crack in his damned soul. Gluing him back together.

“Honey,” she said softly. “Lie on the bed for me.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, not certain he could take any more from her, but he was incapable of denying her. The need was in her voice. He pulled out of her and rolled, laying his back and butt on the bed, his jeans down around his knees, shoes still on. He even had his shirt on.

There was something very decadent and sensual about being fully clothed when his woman was totally naked. When she lifted her head, all that messy hair falling out of the thick knot at the top of her head, her eyes were sultry.

She slid from the bed, not bothering to turn over, just going to her knees, and then her mouth was there. Exquisitely gentle. So good. So beautiful, just like everything she did. Her fingers caressed him. Her hands cupped him. Her tongue lapped at him. Her mouth was hot and felt like velvet.

“You hear me, Siena?” He needed her to confirm she got him. She understood what he was telling her. What she was doing to him, not just his body, but he felt her mouth, her care, right in his fucking soul. She had to get him. He had to give her that.

She finished what she was doing, pressing a kiss on the crown of his cock and lifting her head, still kneeling there. Expression serious. “I heard you, Elijah. Did you hear me?”