The hint of scratch was welcome every bit as much as her being more aggressive was. Her reaction brought a low and pleased sound rumbling from his chest, taking it as a sign he was doing things right. Helping her feel that same fire he felt in his blood, that want and desire and need.

Fingers moved through her hair, weaving through wet strands and against skin, tracing circles along her nape, her shoulders. One hand still holding her head so gently, while he kissed and nibbled, breathing her in. The other moved along her back, down her hips, and around to her own belly. Then up--where there was only a brief hesitation, before again cupping her breast.