His rough voice cuts through the fog. “Stray.” I know what he needs. Reaching down, I take his hand and place it on my throat. I expect him to start squeezing, but he doesn’t. He wraps his arm around my back instead, pulling us into a sitting position. His thrusts deepen as he kisses my cheeks, my chin, my lips. Our skin sticks with sweat as we rock into each other and he presses his forehead against mine. Oh, God. This is so different…so intimate. He holds my gaze as we exchange the same breath. “Aspen.” There’s so much stark emotion contained when he says my name—hate, love, want,
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