Intensity-1
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The first time it was Iva’s heat that drove their intensity.
But today,…this was something else entirely.
Caleb rose above her like a shadow cast by firelight, his chest heaving, his eyes darker. The gentle lover with slower strokes was gone. In his place stood something primal. Something that had waited too long. Something that would no longer be denied.
Iva should have been afraid.
Instead, she burned hotter.
“Don’t stop,” she had whispered against his lips. And something inside him had cracked open.
Now his hands gripped her hips with a possessiveness that bordered on raw. He flipped her onto her stomach before she could draw breath, one hand pressing between her shoulder blades, the other tangling in her hair and pulling just enough to arch her back.
“You wanted me,” he growled, his voice rougher than she had ever heard it. “Now you get all of me.”
His body covered hers from behind, the heat of him searing against her skin. She felt every inch of him pressed against her-the hard planes of his chest, the ridges of his stomach, the thick, demanding length of him nestled against the curve of her backside.
He wanted her like this. Exposed. Vulnerable. His.
The engagement bond burned so bright it was almost blinding. Through it, she felt everything he had been holding back-the wanting, the agony of waiting, the desperate, clawing need to claim what was his. All the frustration.
It poured into her through his touch, through the bond, through the way his breath came ragged against her
ear.
“You don’t know what you do to me,” he said, his voice breaking on the words.
After he removed her clothes, he positioned himself behind her, the broad head of him, pressing against her entrance. She was already slick and aching. But this angle was different. Deeper. More.
“Tell me you’re mine,” he demanded.
“Yours,” she gasped. “I’m yours.”
He pushed inside her in one long, relentless stroke.
Iva cried out, her fingers clawing at the sheets. He filled her so completely she couldn’t tell where she ended and he began. The stretch was almost too much, the fullness overwhelming, but beneath it all was a pleasure so sharp it bordered on pain.
Caleb paused for just a moment, his forehead dropping to the back of her neck. She felt him trembling, felt the monumental effort it took for him not to simply take.
Intensity L
“Goddess,” he breathed. “You feel-I can’t-”
And then he moved.
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There was nothing gentle about it this time. His hips snapped against hers with a force that drove the breath from her lungs, each thrust burying him deeper, harder, more completely. The bed groaned beneath them. The headboard slammed against the wall. None of it registered.
All she knew was him.
His hand fisted in her hair, holding her exactly where he wanted her. His other arm wrapped around her waist, anchoring her against him, not letting her escape even a fraction of an inch. He fucked her with a desperation that bordered on madness, pouring every ounce of his longing and frustration and need into the place where their bodies joined.
His pace quickened. The sound of their bodies meeting filled the room, wet and obscene and perfect.
“You think I’m gentle by choice?” He pulled her hair, tilting her head back, forcing her to feel every inch of him. “I’ve been fighting myself since the day I met you. Every look. Every touch. Every time you looked at me, I wanted to throw you over my shoulder and never let anyone see you again.”
Iva could barely breathe. Could barely think. The pleasure was too much, the intensity too great. He was everywhere-inside her, around her, consuming her. The bond pulsed with his emotions, and she felt them all. The desperation. The possessive hunger. The fear that she would vanish if he didn’t hold on tight enough.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she gasped, as if she had heard his thoughts.
His response was a growl that vibrated through her entire body. He pulled out almost completely, ignoring her whimper of loss, and then slammed back inside her so hard she saw white.
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