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.

He held my eyes and didn’t say anything.

Then I found my mouth telling him, “I lost control.”

He did a slow blink.

Then he asked, “Is this a bad thing?”

“I don’t know,” I began, watching him closely then whispered, “Is it?”

He stared at me, eyes widening in unconcealed disbelief. Then, quick as a flash, both of his arms were super tight around me even as he pressed his head back into the pillows and roared with laughter. About two seconds into his hilarity, he rolled us both, losing our connection as he did but settling with his weight on me, his h*ps between my legs and his laughter sounding against the skin of my neck where he shoved his face.

“Brock,” I wheezed, “I… can’t…” he lifted his head and looked down at me, smiling huge as he planted one forearm in the bed taking his weight off me and curled his other hand around my neck right under my jaw. “Breathe,” I finished.

His thumb stroked my jaw as he kept smiling down at me but he didn’t say a word.

“Um… I think I should get up and –”

“Yeah, babe, you can get up in a second,” he interrupted me. “But first, let’s get somethin’

straight, all right?”

I held his eyes and bit my lip.

He looked at my mouth and pressed his lips together as his eyes danced.

Then he unpressed them to say, “I intend to spend a lot of time doin’ just what we did adding variations, positions, different locations and I’m gonna be creative.”

Oh my.

I felt the walls of my womb contract.

He went on. “You ever,” he dipped his face close, mouth and eyes still smiling, “ever lock onto your control while we’re enjoyin’ each other, I’ll know one thing. And that is, I’m not doin’ it right.”

Oh my.

“Brock –” I whispered but stopped when his face dipped even closer.

“Baby, that was f**kin’ phenomenal. Nothin’ you did, not one thing, I didn’t like and most of it I f**kin’ loved. Mark this, sweetness, I like it wild and you… were… wild and I loved every f**kin’ minute of it. I do not know what the other men you took to your bed taught you but whatever it was, it was f**ked. Lose that ghost in your eyes, Tess, because, baby, you’re a goddamned natural.”

Because his words made that warm gushiness invade my insides, I lifted my hand to his neck then slid it into his hair and then I lifted my head as I pulled his down to me, my head tilted, his slanted and I kissed him, wet and hopefully sweet then he gave me his weight as his arms wrapped back around me, he rolled me again to the top and he took over the kiss and his was also wet, his was deep and his was definitely sweet.

He broke the kiss but not the connection of our mouths so his lips moved against mine when he whispered, “Totally a natural.”

I smiled against his mouth and into his eyes.

Brock smiled back the same way.

Then he muttered, “Shower,” to which I did a full body tremble right on top of him.

He felt it and I watched close up as his smile got lazy.

Then he hauled us both out of bed, out of the room, into the bathroom and then into the shower.

After that, I made him coffee and toast and then later made out with him on my doorstep in full view of a waking neighborhood, my arms around his shoulders, my body pressed deep, our tongues tangled, his arms were tight around me with one hand carrying coffee in a travel mug and the fingers of his other hand holding a half eaten slice of toast.