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“You’re not,” he growled, but his hand splayed against her spine, drawing her closer. Bringing her knee up over his hip, she tried to encourage him. The sensitive inner flesh of her thigh rubbed against the coarse hairs of his leg. She resisted the urge to slide her leg back and forth and ended with her folded limb against his side.

He groaned and rocked his hips forward. That male part of him pressed against her belly.

Squirming higher, she tried to get positioned correctly.

“I can’t fight both of us,” he said.

If he was fighting himself, she had no indication of it.

He rolled her to her back. His mouth crashed against hers as his weight bore her down into the mattress.

His kiss was insistent, impatient. He positioned her head as he wanted it, and he seemed to want to fuse them together. Air rushed across her cheek as he breathed hard, but didn’t unlock his lips from hers. He sucked on her tongue, drawing it into his mouth as if he was done allowing an unequal pairing.

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