“You know how fucking long it’s been without you?” His voice was a cross between a growl and an accusation. He dragged her body tight against his, pressing his heavy erection against her throbbing mound.

A low moan escaped as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I can’t wait.”

“I should make you wait.” He trailed kisses over her face, then caught her mouth with his again, a ruthless brand that sent the fire already burning between them out of control.

Isabeau nearly sobbed as she tried to pull his shirt off. “I can’t wait, not another minute. I need you inside me.” She was past all pride with him. It had always been like this when they came together. She had no control and didn’t pretend any, not when he was grinding his heavy erection against her and her entire body cried out for his.

“You don’t leave me again, Isabeau. You understand?” His voice rough, harsh even, a sensual, hungry sound that made her knees go weak.

His hands were everywhere, tugging at her clothes, sliding against bare skin, urging her to step out of her jeans when she was barely aware of what was happening. A few raindrops managed to slip through the broad, leafy canopy and sizzle against her hot skin. The cool drops nearly burned, she was so sensitive.

His mouth was on hers again, hot and hungry, their tongues stroking caresses, dueling, while moans escaped to blend with the incessant shrill of the cicadas. Breath came in ragged gasps, and she couldn’t get close enough, sliding her hands over his bare skin, yanking at the waistband of his jeans so she could slide her hand inside the material and stroke his thick arousal.

His breath exploded from his lungs. He cupped the soft weight of her breasts and bent his head. His golden eyes burned with liquid fire as he watched her watching his mouth descend. She’d forgotten how intense the sensation of his mouth on her breast could be. She shuddered, throwing her head back, arching her back to give him better access, a soft cry escaping.

His teeth tugged at her nipple and moisture pooled hot between her thighs. She shivered with pleasure, writhing under his mouth’s assault. The way his teeth and tongue stroked over her breasts was addicting—intoxicating, so she felt almost drunk with pleasure. Streaks of fire whipped through her blood and licked at her hot core, driving her need beyond anything she’d known. She nearly sobbed, her nails digging into his hips, trying to connect their bodies.

“Say it for me, Isabeau. I want to hear you say you’ll never leave me.”

She would have promised him anything, and what he was asking was no more than she wanted with every breath she took. “Never, Conner.”

“I’m holding you to your word.”

Even the way he said it made her hotter, that was how far gone she was. He lifted her up, so that she was straddling his groin, and then he looped one thigh over his arm, forcing her completely open to him. He was enormously strong, his powerful thighs like twin columns supporting the both of them, his hands gripping her bottom. She felt the broad, flared head of his erection pressing into her entrance and she tried to push down, to claim him, but he held her just above her prize, the head lodged in her so she felt every inch of his slow, steady entrance.

Conner’s cock was thick and long and his invasion would, even with her slick welcome, stretch her tight channel impossibly. She hadn’t been with anyone else in all that time, and he knew it would be uncomfortable for her. He wanted to go carefully, make certain she experienced pleasure, not pain. His breath hissed out in a long rush, his teeth coming together as the scorching heat gripped him, consumed him, took him nearly beyond his control.

Her small, sobbing pleas only added fuel to the fire. He could feel tongues of flames licking up his legs to burn his balls and settle like a conflagration in his groin. She was searing him, velvet soft, hotter than hell, so tight she gripped him like a vise. He growled a command, incapable of speaking lucidly, but it didn’t matter. She knew what to do, he’d made certain of that. He’d never understood men who didn’t talk with their woman about the intensity of pleasure between a man and a woman. He believed in finding out everything he could about his mate, what pleased her, what turned her into a sobbing, pleading lover willing to give him the same careful consideration.

She began to move, a slow, delicious ride he felt all the way from the top of his skull to his toes. Every movement sent electrical impulses rocketing through him. He was desperate for her. In her innocence, she had no idea what she did to him. Her body fit his perfectly. Her breasts were beautiful, brushing his chest with each bucking motion of her hips. Her silken hair seared his skin. He fought to calm his racing heart and stay in control, but her body just grew hotter and tighter with each stroke.

He felt her wince as he fully seated her, piercing her cervix. He murmured softly to her, waiting for her body to grow used to accommodating his. All the while, he kept his teeth pressed tightly together, breathing through the brutal pleasure. “You good?” The words came out harsher than he intended, but she didn’t seem to mind, tossing her head and nodding emphatically.

He bent his knees and drove upward, his soft growl a dark, dangerous sound that silenced the cicadas closest to them. She sobbed out her pleasure. The angle he had, with her thigh draped over his arm, allowed him to create friction along her most sensitive spot. He bent his head to the temptation of her throat and gave a series of erotic licks, his teeth scraping back and forth, taking several hungry bites.

He pounded into her melting heat, needing her shudders, her little breathless cries. He had to find a way to hold her to him through the coming storm. He was desperate to tie her irrevocably to him. He wanted her orgasm to be the best she’d ever had, wanted her to associate all that mind-numbing ecstasy with him alone. He couldn’t ever lose her again. He wouldn’t survive it, and the coming days would test the strength of what they had together.