What do I feel like?” I asked, my eyes filled with tears.

He grasped my hips, and began to move beneath me. “Hot. Wet. Sweet,” he said, and then he reached for me, sitting up so that he could wrap his arms around my back.

He breathed hard as he thrust into me. “Why did you ask?”

“I just wondered,” I replied. I thought my body might feel as bitter as my heart felt the past few years. I didn’t think it was possible for me to feel anything but.

But when he kissed me again, I thought maybe there was hope for something else. As we moved together, his mouth pressed hotly against my neck, and I wanted his mouth on my breasts. Maybe later I would get my wish.

I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t do anything but move against him, urgent, stunned with a pleasure that overwhelmed me. I wanted to find release, to come around him in tight spasms.

I cried out with pleasure, but frustration, too. My hands began to tremble, my palms started to sweat, and my breasts ached. This is what I’d been afraid of for so long, I thought. That I’d be overwhelmed by Roan. That he’d take me over, and my thoughts wouldn’t be my own anymore. My every thought would be of him, and life as I knew it would be over.

Roan took over, taking away the last of the control I’d always struggled to keep. He rolled me onto my back, and then thrust into me with long strokes, each one pushing me further and further toward release.

Then, before I could stop myself, I climaxed. I moved frantically beneath him, convulsions overtaking my body. The sensations petrified me and I started to cry.

I knew he was coming, too, when he pushed in hard and deep and groaned something I couldn’t quite make out. The fact that he came inside me excited me. He rolled us both onto our sides as we breathed together, my open mouth pressed hotly against his neck.