The force behind his thrusts nearly made me go cross-eyed. “Oh, God!” I moaned. He chuckled. “If that’s what you want to call me.” “I wasn’t—” Thrust. “Calling—” Thrust. “You that.” My words came out staggered and breathless. As he continued to pound into me, one of his hands left my hip and he fisted my hair, tugging it just enough to border the edge of pleasure and pain. “I’m the only one fucking you, Shiloh. If you don’t want me to think I’m a god, you better start moaning my name.”
