She laid her cheek against me, rolling her eyes up to look at mine.

"Let's go to the bedroom," I said thickly. 

She didn't agree or disagree, so I pulled her up, lifting her under the arms and propping her on her feet.  I couldn't keep my hands to myself.  I palmed her breasts and watched her jaw go slack. 

Fuck.  I let her go, taking a step away as I pushed my stiff length back into my pants.  "Bedroom.  I want you in the bedroom." 

I turned, heading down the hallway, through the entryway, and up the double staircase.  I headed for the east wing of the house, aware every step that a topless Scarlett followed.

"This place is bigger than I thought," she observed, her tone neutral. 

"Do you like it?"  I hoped so.  I'd purchased it with her personal preferences in mind.  Because it was for her.    

"Sure."

At least it wasn't a no.

My mouth twisted wryly as I showed her our bedroom.  The house was for her.  The bedroom for me.    

"Subtle," she said wryly.  The ceiling over the bed and every wall that wasn't a window was mirrored. 

What can I say?  I like to watch.  

"It's the first time we've had a house to ourselves.  I might have gone a little overboard."  Proving my own point, my eyes were on her in the mirror as I spoke.

She met my gaze, hers enigmatic.  "You planned this all along."

I shrugged.  It was too complicated to explain, the efforts I had gone to based on the most meager thread of hope.  And I was not in the mood to talk.         

We were of a like mind, apparently, because she started peeling off her jeans without another word.

I shoved out of my sweats, my eyes glued to her, raking over her, devouring every inch of skin she bared. 

When she was bare, I was on her, pushing her to the bed, straddling her, pressing my chest to hers, our warm flesh rubbing together, creating more friction than I needed to ignite.

I cupped her face in both hands and kissed her, shifting on top of her, wedging myself between her legs.  I pulled back to watch her face as I breached her, near mindless with need. 

Abruptly and unexpectedly, she began to struggle, pushing me off her.  I moved back with a jerk, too stunned to protest. 

"Not like that," she said, flushing.  She sat up, not looking me in the eye.  "Not face to face.  Not right now." 

It stung, but I told myself it was fine.  She had given me so much in such a short time.  It was a miracle that she was even here. 

Clearly, more time was needed for certain intimacies.  But if I worked on her long enough, she wouldn't hold back.  It was inevitable.  Left to our own devices, we would give each other everything, because that was the order of the universe. 

I truly believed that.     

I brushed off the sting and accommodated her.  I was too far gone to split hairs, my mind in a dark and primitive place that didn't particularly care about anything except getting balls deep inside of her and rutting like an animal. 

She showed me just what she wanted by moving to a large chaise lounge that dominated the corner of the room closest to the shoe closet I hadn't yet shown her.  She climbed onto the cream-colored piece of furniture, getting on hands and knees, positioned right on the edge. 

I didn't need to be told twice.  I was covering her back, arms reaching around to palm her breasts, my tip butting up against her entrance between one thumping heartbeat and the next. 

I shut my eyes with that first drugging thrust.  She was wet, pliant, so I didn't hold back, jamming in to the hilt without preamble.  The noise that escaped me right as her wet heat covered the base of my shaft was more animal than human.  I was not a thinking being in that moment. 

I was mindless.  Her slave.    

I watched us in the mirrors, watched myself going in and out of her, watched my cock squeezing in and dragging out slowly, then faster, frenzied.  As soon as she began to get loud, close to her release, I slowed the rhythm again.

She was braced on all fours, her back arched, but her head was turned with mine, watching our bodies, never meeting my eyes no matter how long I stared at hers, trying to catch her gaze. 

Again, it stung, but it was a battle for another day. 

I watched her face while my body pumped into hers, watched her watching where we joined, and that did it.  I'd wanted to last longer, wanted to savor more, but it was hopeless.  I should have been amazed with myself for lasting as long as I had.  The first touch of her nose nuzzling my shaft back in the living room had nearly had me coming in my pants. 

I kissed her nape while I emptied inside of her, savoring with complete pleasure that moment of total abandon where I lost myself in her, my mind blown to bits. 

I was still coming, spurting after-effects deep in her womb, when I lifted my head to watch her slack-jawed release, caught the way her eyes glazed over as the skin-tingling rush of her orgasm overtook her. 

It was breathtaking.  A heaven worth going through hell for.  I'd never thought otherwise.

And the best part of all.  I got to have her again.  And again. 

And I did.  I was greedy with it.  Insatiable.  Voracious.   

She brought me to life.  I had her as many times as I could before she cried uncle. 

There was never an end to this need she created inside of me.  This endless chasm of want in my blood for her.  Never had been.  Never would be.