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pushes himself back in, harder this time.

I gasp, my fingers curling around the blanket beneath me, and my eyes close for a moment, letting all the sensations wash over. The feel of his girth inside me, the raspy quality of his breath, the babbling stream flowing past us, far-off bird song, the chill in the evening air. It’s more than just sex right now, it’s a fully primal experience, one with nature, one with each other.

God, I have fantasized about this.

I open my eyes as he pushes in again, his rhythm picking up, and from the look on his face, his brow knitted together, his eyes pinched shut, the moans that are grinding out of his mouth, he’s feeling everything that I am. When his eyes open again, they hold me captive in their gaze, the eye contact more intimate than anything else.

But I know these eyes.

I used to be in love with these eyes.

Then he reaches over and gathers my wrists together, moving them above my head, pinning them there and he starts moving faster, his hips slamming against mine, full of power, the air knocked from me with each and every thrust.

“Fuck,” I whisper, breathless, looking away from the endless intensity in his eyes, his eyes that are starting to demand more than just my body, but my heart and my soul. I focus on the mountains, on the peaks tinged with gold of the setting sun, and I feel like I’m soaring just as high.

Will I ever come down from this?

I let my eyes fall closed, succumbing to every feeling. The scratchy wool of the blanket on my bare back, the cool air as it hardens my nipples, the sound of Anders’ quickening breath, the slide of his cock as he pumps inside me, feeling so full and lush, like he was made just for me.

When I open my eyes to see him, the look on his face has intensified, and sweat is starting to appear on his brow. For a moment, I can’t believe this is happening, that this man, this man of all men, with his god-like muscles, and those poetic tattoos, is fucking me senseless.

“I want you to come,” Anders says through a rough grunt, his body a well-oiled machine hell-bent on giving me pleasure. “I want to see you come, out here, among the flowers. I want to see you bloom.”

My skin is already hot and tight, but now a flush is creeping across my face.

Wow.

I don’t have a witty retort to that, in fact, it feels like all words and thoughts are starting to leave my body with each and every pump of his cock. So he reaches down between my legs and start rubbing my clit in slick wet circles.

Oh god.

That’s it.

That’s always been it.

“Keep going,” I cry out softly, my legs spreading wider for him, the pressure building inside me, making me feel like my veins are running molten hot.

He grunts in response, and I watch as he concentrates on getting me off with feverish intensity.

I need to remember that look. It’s the look of a man possessed by lust, a man that wants nothing more than for me to come.

And in this moment at least, he’s my man.

“Don’t stop,” I say again, bringing out another gruff moan from him, his breath hitching, his fingers working faster as his cock drives in deeper, like he’s nailing me into the ground.

Oh god. Here I go.

The pressure inside me starts to build, thick and hot and sweet, and I feel like I’m seconds from going over the edge. He leans down, adjusting his grip on my wrists, capturing my lips in a wet and sweaty kiss. His tongue fucks my mouth as thoroughly as his cock, then he brings his warm tongue down over my chin, throat, until it licks over my breasts. They bounce with each hard thrust but he manages to suck my nipple in his mouth, giving it a delicate pinch before he sets me off.

“I’ve waited for this,” Anders says thickly, just as my orgasm rushes for me, making my back arch, my vision blur.

This man just destroyed me.

“Oh fuck,” I cry out as I come, immediately drowning in the tsunami, feelings I had buried, feelings I had dreamed of, they all come for me in a vicious wave, a riptide, an undertow. I’m shaking, shuddering, crying out in garbled words that don’t make any sense, and my eyes focus on him, and then the sky, and then it’s like I can see the universe too.

Anders grunts, brings his large, hot, calloused hands down to my hips, holding me in place as he keeps fucking me like a desperate man, like he’ll die if doesn’t, like an animal on the loose. It’s not long before his back is arching, his head thrown back, and he’s coming with a long and helpless groan aimed at the sky.

I’m still coming, still riding it out, but I’m not missing this show. I watch him come, watch him fall apart, piece by piece, loving how it looks on him.

“Jesus,” he groans, gasping. “Fucking hell.”

I grin, sated, lazy, watching as the orgasm continues to roll through his body, just as it rolled through mine. Anders is completely undone, his taut torso slick with sweat from his own exertion, his hair messed up, beard wet from our messy kisses, his chest heaving as he breathes.

Then, the world seems to come back into focus for the both of us.

With a long, slow shuddering breath, he looks down at me, and in his eyes I see peace. I see relief. I see both the past and the present and just a hint of a future.

I know he sees the same in mine.

15

Anders

For the first time in a long time, when I wake up before dawn breaks, I’m not alone in my bed. I feel Shay beside me, the soft skin of her hip against me, the easy sound of her breath. Outside the light from

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