“Fuck, Tess,” Brock growled, and not able to hold myself up anymore, I fell forward into a hand in the bed beside him as I kept riding him hard, grinding down to take him deep, his fingers on one hand clamped encouragingly around my hip as his thumb on the other continued to press and roll against my clit.

My dazed eyes focused on him as the sensations between my legs trembled down the tops of my thighs, warmed my belly, glided up to swell my breasts, making the silk covering them beautiful torture at my nipples and up farther so even my scalp tingled.

I ground down on his cock, rolling my hips as my free hand went to his face.

Sliding my hand down his throat then farther to explore the sleek, solid wall of his chest, I held his heated, mercury eyes and whispered, “God, honey, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

At my words, he bucked his hips so forcefully, I nearly went flying. His torso knifed up, his arm clamped around me, and he whipped me to my back. His hips driving into mine, his thumb still at my clit, he captured my mouth in a searing hot kiss and didn’t let go even as I whimpered the warning of my fast-approaching orgasm into his mouth.

And he still didn’t let go as one of my arms convulsed around his back, the other hand drove into his hair and fisted, my feet planted themselves in his bed, my hips surged up, and I exploded with a sharp cry against his tongue.

Still coming, Brock’s thumb disappeared and both his hands yanked my legs up and around his hips. He gave me his weight, then both hands went to my ass and he jerked my hips up, deepening his pounding thrusts. His mouth finally released mine in order for his to grunt. Each noise he made throbbed into the walls of my sex and the subsiding wave built and, to my shock, started crashing in again.

“Brock.” His name came from somewhere deep, breathy with surprise and low with pleasure as the second orgasm rolled over me.

My nails dragged his back and my neck started to arch but one of his hands left my hip and slid into my hair, fingers fisting and holding my head steady so he could watch.

The wave receded again just as his thrusts lost their rhythm but increased their violence then, still driving deep, I watched his head tilt back and listened to his release.

When it stopped being vocal and his thrusts regained a rhythm, this one slower and starting to gentle, I lifted my head and pressed my lips against his throat.

He let me do this but when my head dropped back to the bed, his face moved to my neck and, still gliding slowly in and out, his hands started to roam over the silk at my sides.