“Thank you,” he mutters, lifting me and tossing me onto the bed.

I squeak in surprise, delighted and beaming as he crawls over me. I cup his face, take his mouth with mine, our tongues stroking, sucking, harsh panting breaths, as Will kisses me fiercely.

I sink my hands into his hair, drawing him down over me. Will shifts until he’s stretched out over me, his weight settled between my thighs. I sigh in pleasure, raking my hands up his back.

Our mouths meet again, in deep, slow kisses, sharp tugs of air drawn against each other’s mouths. His tongue strokes mine, wet, hot, making my hips roll beneath his, begging for that same sensual rhythm. I’m aching, but not in pain—in glorious pleasure, warm and wanting, in the pulse between my legs and deep inside me, in my nipples as they rub against his chest, the sensitive stretch of skin at the nape of my neck where his breath fans hot and fast, making goose bumps bloom in its wake.

“Juliet,” he pants against our kiss.

I sigh his name, pleasure spilling through me as he rocks his hips into mine. “Will.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.

Will cups my breast, my panting breaths morphing to cries of pleasure when he plucks rhythmically at my nipple. He kisses me, swallowing the sound. I wrap my legs around him, pulling him close, so close, until he can’t get any closer.

Will breaks our kiss to shift his weight, to settle over me on his elbows. He doesn’t kiss me again, only stares down at me, his gaze roaming my face.

I ask breathlessly, “Everything okay?”

Gently, he brushes back the hair that has stuck to my temples. “Yes. Am I crushing you?”

“Not at all.” I reach for him, try to pull him down for another kiss, but he holds steady, his eyes holding mine.

His eyes search mine. “I’m only going to say this once, because…I know that’s important to you, not always having it brought up, how much your body can hurt…”

I nod.

“I know I can’t take away your pain, as damn hard as I wish I could. I just need to know, before we do this, that I won’t ever be adding to it. That you’ll tell me if I’m hurting you,” he says. “If I’m too heavy, if anything is uncomfortable, okay?”

I smile up at him, this man I love so very much, and lift my pinkie. “Promise.”

He smiles down at me as he hooks his pinkie with mine, then lets go, bracing himself over me again.

His eyes hold mine. My breath stutters in my chest. And then he lowers his mouth to mine.

I let him torture me in that wonderful way he has, rocking against me, working me up. My feet scramble against the bedsheets. My hands rake down his back. When I can’t take another second, I pull away from our kiss and gently press on his shoulders. Will searches my eyes.

“Lie down,” I tell him.

He flops onto his back. And now it’s my turn to crawl over him. Will’s eyes grow hazy as I straddle his waist. I bend down and kiss him, tongue and teeth. His hand dives into my hair. He grunts as I shimmy down, rubbing myself against his erection.

He reaches for me, but I gently duck his hand, crawling lower, planting kiss after kiss on each freckle of his skin.

“Jules,” he sighs, his voice tight with need.

“Let me enjoy myself, impatient man.” I grin, kissing a freckle at his hip, lower, on his thigh, then the other, until I’m at the edge of the bed, bent over him. I grip his length and stroke it, the way I’ve learned he likes. He groans as I pump him firmly. And then he swears when I take him in my mouth. Time for Will to endure a little delicious torture of his own.

He grips the bedspread with one hand and finds my cheek with the other, cupping it tenderly. I moan around him, loving how hard he is, his taste, the feel of him as I take him deeper.

He gasps. “Jules.”

“Hmmm?”

He reaches for my arm, panting for air. “Come here. Please.”

“Just a minute,” I tell him, returning to the very pleasurable task at hand. For a few minutes, I tease him, light sucks, cupping his balls, flicking the tip of his length. His hips start to rock in earnest beneath me. His hand shakes as it cups my cheek.

“Juliet, I need to be inside you.”