Page 325 of Bitter’s Sweet

Care without control.

Maybe we are both learning.

The pace builds between us until neither of us is careful in the same fragile way anymore.

We are careful where it matters.

Everywhere else, we are hungry.

Sweet meets every thrust. She tells me when she wants harder, and I listen. When she needs slower, I listen to that too.

Her body begins tightening around me.

“Look at me.”

Her eyes open.

I almost laugh because I know exactly what I just did.

Sweet does too.

Her brows lift.

“Request,” I manage.

Her lips curve.

“I want to.”

Better.

Always fucking better.

I kiss her while she comes apart beneath me, her hand crushing mine and my name breaking against my mouth.

That is enough to finish me.

More than enough.

I bury my face against her neck and follow her over.

For a few seconds neither of us moves.

Then Sweet whispers, “Your shoulder.”

“Worth it.”

“Idiot.”

“Your idiot?”

The words leave before I can stop them.

Sweet goes still.

I lift my head.

“Too much?”