And he took it.

Brock had not lied with what he said in my kitchen when he came back. The first time he made love to me had not been planned. It wasn’t a seduction. It started as usual, we were just messing around but, before that night, he’d always kept it under control. It had usually been about me, him exploring me or him helping me to get off. But something happened and, even as much as I thought about it, to that day, I had no idea what it was but whatever it was, it snapped his control and he picked me up from the couch, carried me to the bedroom and off we went.

This was different from all of that except the last.

Because Brock didn’t have a plan. Brock wasn’t protecting me from exposing myself, giving too much to a man whose name I did not know. There was no reason for Brock to control the situation, his reaction or mine.

So he didn’t.

And even bigger than that night when his control snapped, now he didn’t need it, with one touch of our tongues, lying in my bed in the weak, early morning light of dawn, it exploded.

And even better than any other time, this wasn’t about him exploring me and helping me to get off. This was about us exploring each other.

And for the first time ever, I was free to give as good as I got.

So I f**king did.

It was wild, it was heated, it was energetic, there was a lot of rolling, groping, tongues, teeth, fingers, moans, groans, whimpers, sighs and gasps as he took, I took, he gave and I gave.

And it was when I was giving, crouched low between his cocked legs, my mouth taking him deep when he knifed up, his hands came under my armpits, he hauled me between his legs up his body at the same time he rolled me to my back. I wound my arms around his shoulders as I opened my legs and his h*ps fell through.

Then his eyes locked with mine the second before he thrust deep.

My neck arched, my arms spasmed around him and I lifted my knees to press my thighs tight to his sides.

“Tess, mouth,” he growled, my neck righted and his mouth was on mine, his tongue in my mouth as he rode me deep, God, so deep, hard, God, so hard and sweet, God, God, so unbelievably sweet.

It built, it was fast, it was hot and it was going to be incredibly good.

And before it swept over me, I tore my mouth from his, shoved my face in his neck and moaned, “Brock.”

“Oh yeah, baby, f**k yeah,” he grunted, thrusting deep, I drew in a sharp breath and came hard.

Then I came down, my head dropping back to the pillows and I had the opportunity to watch his face as I felt him move inside me and I saw, clear as day, Brock Lucas liked right where he was.

A lot.

A whole lot.

He had an arm around my waist, grinding me down, his weight in his other forearm in the bed and I wrapped my legs around him, tilting my h*ps up for him and this made him growl deep from his chest. His eyes locked with mine, I kept one arm tight around his shoulders and my other hand went to his face, thumb sweeping his cheek then his lips.

Then he buried that face in my neck, groaned, “Tess,” and planted himself to the root on another groan as he came.

I slid my hand from his face into his hair, tilted and tipped my head so my face was in his neck and I pressed my lips against his heated skin, feeling the tickle of the long hairs that curled there.

Then I closed my eyes and took him in with three senses, smelling his skin, feeling him all around and buried inside me and listening to his heavy breaths.

He gave me his weight for approximately two seconds before he gathered me in both his arms, miraculously got up to his knees taking me with him, still connected, and, keeping our bodies linked, he twisted, falling to his hip then dropping to his back with me on top.

Nice.

“Nice,” I whispered into his neck and I heard his deep, attractive chuckle before I heard his head move on the pillow then I felt his lips against my hair where he kissed me.

Oh my.

That was nice too.

He had one arm wrapped around the small of my back and when the other hand drifted up my spine to play with my hair, I lifted my head to look down at him.

He tilted his chin, his quicksilver eyes catching mine and he grinned, sated, content and amused and the sweet, sultry, warm hum of that mood saturated the air and settled like bliss against my skin as he muttered, “Wild thing.”

I blinked.

Then I asked, “Sorry?”

“Baby, f**k,” his arm gave me a squeeze, “you were all over me.”

I blinked again.

Then I felt my body get tight.

Damn.

I was a follower not a leader in bed. Careful, thoughtful, keeping ears and eyes open to make sure what I was doing was enjoyed and noting what my partner liked when I did it so I could keep doing it or cataloging it to do it again.

I did not lose control. I did not let go.

This meant the two times I’d had sex with Brock were the two best times of my life, by far, like, far as in an ocean far. In fact, without a fair amount of work from my partner (and, usually, they gave up), I rarely cl**axed during sex or any part of the festivities.

But, just now, I had not been in my head and paying attention. I had been in the zone and acting on instinct. My body, what it was feeling and its needs, ruled my mind and my mind had totally checked out.

Totally.

Damn.

I started to pull up when Brock’s hand cupped the back of my head but slid down, taking my hair with it so his fingers were curled around the back, his palm was warm on my neck under my ear and his thumb was against my face by my hairline.

And as his hand positioned, he whispered, “Hey.” My eyes slid through his to come to rest on the pillow by his head and I inched up again but his hand tensed and he semi-repeated,

“Tess, hey.” I stilled but kept my gaze on the pillowcase to which I got a squeeze of his arm around my back, pulling my body close and a growled, “Eyes, babe.”

My eyes slid to his.

His looked deep into them.

Then his hand at my head brought my face super close to his and he whispered, “What the f**k, baby?”

“I –” I started but a shadow shifted into his eyes and stayed there as he cut me off.

“Jesus, did I hurt you?”

I shook my head slightly and said, “No, it’s just…”

I trailed off because I didn’t know what it was.

His thumb started skimming my cheek light and sweet as he prompted gently, “It’s just what?”

“I don’t know what,” I whispered.