Page 7 of Pas de Trois
He groans again, shaking with need. I know how much he wants to sink inside me—-one I’d ever want to take me fiercely, passionately, without restraint. But he’s just such a damn good man.
Too damn good for me.
He doesn’t want to be like all the rest who take and take from me without care or concern.But he could never be like them. I have no fear with him, no shame, no guilt. I want him to have me, to love me, to enjoy my body because he’s earned it. Ezra has earned my heart and soul, and with it, my body.
I grip his face in my palms, pulling him away from our kiss by hardly an inch. I give him the full force of my gaze. “I need you inside me.”
The feral, masculine part of him roars internally—I see the flash fire of it explode behind his eyes. Inexplicably, it makes my stomach clench and wetness rush between my legs with need. Still, he restrains that beast within him.
“You need rest. I don’t want to hurt you.”
I’m already rocking and rubbing myself against Ezra’s waist because he just does something to me that I can’t explain. “I can’t rest until you come inside me.”
He groans and his hips buck up against me. I feel his erection against my bare skin and I’ve never needed him as much as I do right now.
“Please, Ezra,” I beg. “Make me forget everything but you.”
He presses me harder against the wall, his hips working. “Jesus Christ, Anya.”
He’s holding back and it’s killing me. I feel like I have to seduce him, and it’s such an odd role reversal for me. It makes me feel powerful to know he won’t take advantage of me, to know that he can’t take advantage of me. He’s too determined to protect me, to care for me, to keep me safe. He gives me power over him. In a world where I have been powerless and abused for so long, it’s a rush to know that he’s mine.
And it’s the biggest fucking turn-on.
I lean forward, biting his lower lip and sucking on it. I release it and he shudders. “Lay me down and fuck me, Ezra Bell.”
