Danielle POV
His hand moves again, sliding along my jaw before gripping the side of my throat, just enough to remind me who has control. His forehead presses to mine, his eyes boring into me like he’s carving something permanent beneath my skin.
“You thought your fingers were better than me?” he asks, voice rough, laced with heat and challenge as he continues to thrust. “That what you really think?”
I smile, even as I pant for breath, even as my body screams from the pleasure. “At least my fingers didn’t make me wait.”
That earns me a growl so deep it vibrates against my chest. He slams into me again, hard enough that I gasp, hard enough that I feel the bruises blooming already. But I don’t ask him to stop. I never would. Because this... this fight, this burn, this heat, is exactly wha
