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“Wanting to check off every box on her list, Hudson took control. Gentle at first, building from a slow burn to surface-of-the-sun. They moved together, faster and more frantic, their momentum catching fire. Desperate for leverage, he leaned her back against the table, and they quickly became a sweaty tangle of arms and legs. Touching, sliding, exploring. He knew when it happened, when she forgot about tallies and checkmarks and gave herself over to the possibilities. Gave herself over to him. Her hands slid up and down his spine, her eyes shining up as she started to tighten around him. The air burned his lungs, so he gave up on breathing. His chest felt too big for his skin, his knees began to buckle, and he wanted to run away and come home all at the same time. Her legs pulled him down until there wasn't even a breath between them. She buried her face into the curve of his shoulder, holding him as though he was one of the good ones. For the first time in his life, he was determined to be that guy--- to erase any hesitation she'd had about them. "I'm almost there," she moaned, clenching and drawing him all the way in, which drove him right over the edge. The pressure built, hotter and higher, and he fought to keep himself in check, but her thighs tightened around his waist until he thought he'd pass out and then, hallelujah, she began to shake. She pushed up as he came down, sinking so deep he knew he never wanted to leave.” — Marina Adair