I stare down at him and take in the perfection beneath me. Hair a mess and green eyes wild with lust. My hands run up his chest, feeling every inch of him as he slides further up the bed. I lean down and trail my tongue over the lines of his muscles, every cut and every dip. He moans against my lips as I trail higher, kissing and licking his neck. I close my eyes as his hands run up my thighs, stopping and playing with the clips of my garter. His thumb runs over my aching clit and dips in my wetness.

“God, you’re so fucking wet. Is this killing you? Not having my cock in you right now?”

Oh, the dirty talking. Reese is a master at everything dirty, and he knows it. I bring my mouth down against his, rough and needy as I whimper against his lips. He pulls my bottom lip into his mouth and sucks on it as my hands find his belt. It’s hard to concentrate, especially when he’s doing that thing I love with his tongue. You know, the thing he does really fucking well when his head’s between my legs. Yeah, that thing. Except he’s doing it to my mouth, and I’m panting, moaning, stroking my tongue against his as his belt is finally removed. I work his zipper and slide his pants down, gripping his length in my hand. He tenses and throws his head back.

“Christ, I need you. You’re right. Fuck taking our time.”

In one quick motion, he’s on top of me and I’m being pressed into the mattress.

My mattress.

My fucking bed.

Fuck, this is Heaven.

His mouth is on my neck, licking and kissing as my eyes roll back into my head. His warm, minty breath blows across my skin, goose bumps immediately forming on the surface. I open my eyes and lock onto his, deep-green pools of emerald burning into mine with that intensity. His intensity. My hands grip his shoulders as he positions himself there. Right there. Christ, I’m so horny I might actually combust before he enters me.

“Reese, please. Get in me already.”

He laughs softly and hovers there, running his length up and down my slick pussy. “Tell me what you want, Dylan. I wanna hear you say it.”

I moan loudly as he presses against my clit. But I don’t talk; no, I’ll let him ask me again. Because I know he will.

“Dylan.” He drops his head, pressing his forehead against mine. His neck rolls with a deep swallow. “Fucking say it.”

I close my eyes and tilt my head up, bringing our lips together. “Just you,” I whisper. “I never stopped thinking about you. Not for one second.” I open my eyes and see him studying my face as if he hasn’t seen it in years. He’s caressing me with his sight, delicately memorizing every inch of me. My hands grab his face, my thumbs lightly stroking his cheeks. We’ve been apart for eighty-five days.

“Eighty-five days. Did you…” I stop talking and see his eyes read what I was going to say. But I can’t say it. Because even though he had every right to be with other women, I suddenly realize I don’t want to picture it.

“No.” His hand brushes my hair off my forehead, tucking it behind my ear. “I tried, though. I wanted to forget you, because it was fucking killing me. Images of you, in my mind. They were constant.” His Adam’s apple rolls in his throat and he lets out a shaky breath, still holding himself at my entrance. “I went out a few times to pick up someone, but I’d end up leaving almost immediately after I got there. And then I’d just go home and give in to it. I’d let myself think of you. Or I’d go for a really long run, which only made me think of you even more.”

My eyes rake over his sculpted upper body, looking even leaner than it had a little over two months ago. His muscles are even more defined, the edges more rigid. “Have you been running a lot?”

He nods and swallows again. “Yeah. You have, too. You’ve lost weight.”

I shake my head. “No, I just haven’t really been eating. My appetite usually disappears when I’m an emotional wreck.” I run my hands down his neck to his shoulders, feeling his muscles flex under my touch. “What did you think about?”

He smiles the tiniest bit and eases forward, entering me slowly. I moan quietly and arch off the bed, my chest brushing against his. “That, right there. The sounds you make when I’m moving in you.” He begins thrusting in a slow rhythm, taking his time while he watches me below him. “The way you arch into me.” His hand brushes down my face and onto my chest. “Like you need to be touching me with every part of you.” His hand moves lower and grabs my leg, pinning it in front of him. “How fucking beautiful you look when you come. I couldn’t get you out of my head. You were always there. Every look you gave me, every moment I held you. I couldn’t let go of it.” He stops moving and runs his finger along my lower lip. “I could be without you for the rest of my life and I’d never want anyone else.”

I blink heavily, sending a tear down the side of my face. When I reopen my eyes, I see the pain in his, the memory of those eighty-five days and how it affected him. I reach up, laying my hand against his cheek. “You’ll never be without me again. I’m yours. I always have been. Even when we were apart.”

“So, you didn’t…”

I shake my head, seeing the tension that set in his features when he started to ask that question slowly release. “I could never be with anyone else. Not after you.”

He drops his head and kisses me like he needs my air to breathe. It’s urgent. Hungry. And I feel that kiss throughout my entire body, reigniting my ache for him. “I need you to move,” I whisper against his mouth.