Ciara's POV
The possessiveness in his tone, the way he claimed me with every word and every thrust, sent a shiver down my spine. My hands roamed his back, feeling the muscles tense and contract beneath my fingertips as he drove deeper into me, hitting a spot that made me gasp and arch my back, my breasts pressing against his chest.
"Vulcan, please," I begged, not even sure what I was asking for anymore—more, less, something to ease the overwhelming pleasure that was building inside me, threatening to shatter me completely.
His eyes never left mine as he slowed his pace, his thrusts becoming deeper, more deliberate. He was teasing me, drawing out the pleasure, pushing me closer to the edge but never letting me fall.
"Tell me what you want," he commanded, his voice a rough whisper against my lips. "Say it, Ciara. Say my name."
