What he just said is so hot that I don’t bother telling him that the neighbors have learned to block out my noises by now.

His hand rubs my fingers faster, harder, into myself, and he pulls his head back to watch me as both our hands stroke myself to the edge of oblivion.

“That’s it,” he says, his eyes so dark now, his stare deep and measuring, determined to get inside me, determined to get me off. “Kayla.” My name sounds like pure heat. “Come for me.”

I can’t hold myself back. I let go.

Freefall.

It spreads slowly at first, like lighting a fuse, the spark traveling from my core and out through every nerve in my body. Then I implode with a jolt that makes me scream. I’ve cried out, yelled, moaned, and cursed, but I’ve never screamed during sex, yet here I am, violence ripping out of me with nowhere else to go.

And it’s not over. I’m a rocket blasting off, just shuddering, shaking, quaking in a rolling boil of fire. I can’t control my body or my thoughts—I’m just flying through the air, exploding in a wave of stars. My heart fills to the brim then floods over with emotion that nearly brings tears to my eyes.

I have been obliterated. He’s completely ruined me, and I’m already dying to have it again and again and again.

“Holy fuck,” I cry against him, my head buried into his sweaty neck, holding his hard body against me, as if I would sink into further oblivion if I didn’t. “Oh god. Lachlan.”

He gives me one of his monosyllabic grunts and pulls his head back, grinning down at me. The lust hasn’t left his eyes, and I realize he hasn’t come yet.

“That was the appetizer, love,” he murmurs, brushing his lips against my gasping mouth. “I’ll go all night.”

I can’t believe I’m about to say this. “I need a breather,” I tell him, my hands curling around his neck while I rest my forehead against his scruffy chin. “Have mercy on me.”

“Oh, I see,” he says lightly. “You can walk the walk but you can’t talk the talk.”

I raise my head and look him in those gorgeous eyes. “I’m still pulsing around you,” I tell him frankly, my breath coming under control.

“I know,” he says. “It’s only making me harder.” He puts his hand at my mouth, runs a finger over my lip. “I can’t wait to taste you.” He pulls himself out of me, kicks off his shoes and his pants, then grips my hips and lifts me up. “Come here,” he says, now stark-ass naked. He carries me across the kitchen to the living room where he places me on my back lengthwise.

He climbs on top of me, his hard, ginormous thighs on either side of my hips, his cock jutting out. I stare at him, wide-eyed, for a beautiful moment as I drink all of him in. I want to lick every single tattoo on his torso, slide my lips over every sculpted ridge. There is something spellbinding, and it’s not only just the sight of him, finally naked and in front of me, but the way his eyes are pinning me down, filled with thoughts and desires I wish I could see.

I expect him to push himself inside me next, but he leans over, bracing his elbows on either of my shoulders. He smiles down at me and I’m unnerved at how gentle it is. It softens everything about him. Lines crinkle at the corners of his eyes, and his brow smooths out. He’s less of a raging beast but still just as beautiful.

He runs his fingers over my nose, down the hills of my lips, looking at me like he’s seeing me, and it’s so strangely intimate, considering our non-relationship so far, that I want to look away and break the gaze.

Thankfully, he breaks it for me. He licks along the rim of my ear, the sensation causing my skin to prickle. “I want to taste every corner of your body,” he murmurs. “Is that all right?”

I swallow hard. “Do you even have to ask?”

“Normally I wouldn’t,” he says, licking down my neck, causing my back to arch. “But since you needed a breather…”

I put my hand in his hair and make a fist, tugging on his soft strands. “Just fucking eat me already.”

He chuckles. “There’s my girl.”

My girl. His words fist punch me right in the heart.

Dear god.

He continues to bring his lips and tongue down the length of my body, caressing my collarbone, my breasts, sucking hard at my nipples until I’m dizzy, nearly mad with sensation. My fingers dig into the taut muscles of his back, turning into desperate clawing as he continues to move downward.

My stomach shivers under his tongue, and my hips jerk under the tickle of his stubble, the sweep of his soft lips.

Finally his head settles between my legs and I part them wider for him, thirsty with dire anticipation. Naturally, he takes his time. He parts me open, slowly letting the rough pad of his fingertip brush over my sensitive flesh.

I’m already gasping, unable to keep quiet, to contain myself.

Then his tongue snakes out, sliding along my clit and setting off more fireworks that flame the fire inside me. My breath shakes, unstable, my fingers clawing at the sheets. My hips lift up, wanting more of him.

He obliges, putting his mouth and lips into it. And he’s watching me. Those wild eyes are watching my every movement as he gives me more and more pleasure, his teeth razing over my clit, his tongue plunging deep inside. His head between my legs is the world’s most beautiful sight, and I know I’m looking dumbfounded and crazed as I stare back at him.

It’s too much. Too soon.

But fuck if I don’t crave it the minute I look away.

So I look back and his heated gaze is still on me, his brows furrowed in epic determination, like a man going off to war, and I’m surprised his look alone doesn’t make me come. I can almost feel him in deep, into the hopeless, dark parts of me I never go, like he’s willing everything forward and out into the open.

Fuck, this man is driving me more insane now than when he was giving me the cold shoulder.

I can’t hold his gaze any longer. I throw my head back and the world becomes warmer, warmer, tighter, as if my universe were built of tiny heated stars. It grows and grows and grows, this impossible force inside me that gathers every single nerve and piece of my body until its wound over and over again.

The slide of his tongue pulls the trigger.

“Holy shit,” I cry out, and he murmurs into me, his groans vibrating deep inside and kicking me over the edge. I’m going over, falling into a net of burning stars, and my fingers grab his hair, pulling at him in desperation, trying to hold on even though there’s no use. The orgasm never seems to end and I turn into a quivering, boneless body.

It’s only while I’m lying here, legs splayed to the side and trying to breathe, that I realize he still hasn’t come yet.

I’m going to need another fucking breather.

But before I can voice that, he’s at me, on his knees, and grabbing hold of one thigh and lifting it high, positioning himself. He pushes inside, still hard through all of that, and I’m so wet and spent that he slides in easily. He’s still as huge and thick as he was in the kitchen. He shoves himself into me with pressing urgency, and I have to give the man credit for keeping it together this long.

“I won’t take long, love,” he hisses, his accent muddled with lust. He grinds into me, his hips circling, pinning me to the bed as he pistons himself in and out. He is merciless, grunting hard with each thrust, this rough, animalistic noise that gets louder and louder the closer he gets to coming. It’s such a fucking beautiful noise that causes the heat to build in my core, coaxing the last bit of flames I have left.

I stare up at him, at his body, at this gorgeous specimen of discipline and pain and good genes. He grips my leg, pushing my thighs back into my stomach so he can thrust in deeper, and it’s almost too deep, but he pulls back just in time, groaning hoarsely.

The bed moves, rocking back and forth loudly, and I’m enthralled as he works me, fucking me like an animal, fucking me like a basic, primal being who has been built for this and only this. Faster, harder, deeper. His pace is relentless.