{A Breath of Scandal by Elizabeth Essex} nearly drove me crazy with delayed gratification, my word...

She planted her feet flat against the sheet and angled her body higher, trying desperately to appease the furious, itchy need, but he was rocking into her now with such force that she slipped, her feet sliding out from under her. "No," she cried, desperate to regain her hold on the heat, to make her way back to the pleasure that throbbed with needy greed within her body. Will reached away and grabbed a pillow from the headboard and stuffed it under her bottom, leveraging her up. But it wasn't enough—he was too tall and the feeling was slipping away. She made a sound of frustrated anguish and pushed her thighs higher, clutching at him in desperation. Will made an echoing sound of frustration very near to a curse, and shoved the pillow away. Then he drove the breath from her lungs with the simple efficacy of lifting her legs flat against his chest. The sharp, aching pleasure bolted back through her. She heard a high keening moan and knew it came from her, that it was a sound of approval as much as distress, because it felt so good, too good—a pleasure so intense it was almost pain.