I heard his deep, attractive chuckle before I heard his head move on the pillow then I felt his lips against my hair where he kissed me.

Oh my.

That was nice too.

He had one arm wrapped around the small of my back and when the other hand drifted up my spine to play with my hair, I lifted my head to look down at him.

He tilted his chin, his quicksilver eyes catching mine, and he grinned, sated, content, and amused.

The sweet, sultry, warm hum of that mood saturated the air and settled like bliss against my skin as he muttered, “Wild thing.”

I blinked.

Then I asked, “Sorry?”

“Baby, fuck”—his arm gave me a squeeze—“you were all over me.”

I blinked again.

Then I felt my body get tight.

Damn.

I was a follower, not a leader in bed. Careful, thoughtful, keeping ears and eyes open to make sure what I was doing was enjoyed and noting what my partner liked when I did it so I could keep doing it or cataloguing it to do it again.

I did not lose control. I did not let go.

This meant the two times I’d had sex with Brock were the two best times of my life, by far. Like, far as in an ocean far. In fact, without a fair amount of work from my partner (and, usually, they gave up), I rarely climaxed during sex or any part of the festivities.

But, just now, I had not been in my head and paying attention. I had been in the zone and acting on instinct. My body, what it was feeling and its needs, ruled my mind and my mind had totally checked out.

Totally.

Damn.

I started to pull up when Brock’s hand cupped the back of my head but slid down, taking my hair with it so his fingers were curled around the back. His palm was warm on my neck under my ear and his thumb was against my face by my hairline.

As his hand positioned, he whispered, “Hey.” My eyes slid through his to come to rest on the pillow by his head and I inched up again but his hand tensed and he semi-repeated, “Tess, hey.” I stilled but kept my gaze on the pillowcase to which I got a squeeze of his arm around my back, pulling my body close, and a growled, “Eyes, babe.”

My eyes slid to his.

His looked deep into them.

Then his hand at my head brought my face super close to his and he whispered, “What the fuck, baby?”

“I—” I started but a shadow shifted into his eyes and stayed there as he cut me off.

“Jesus, did I hurt you?”

I shook my head slightly and said, “No, it’s just…”

I trailed off because I didn’t know what it was.