When he made love to a woman, he took his time. He was in control, always in supreme control. But not this time. Cara’s breathy little moans, the way she curled her fingers into his skin, the sweet intensity of her voice as she shattered beneath his fingertips—not to mention the hot, wet feel of her, the way she sizzled and shook, the scent of her skin—he had to have her. Right now. His side hurt, but he didn’t care. He’d never felt such sweet pain as the pain of his arousal. His injuries simply didn’t compare. Cara was still shaking from the power of her release as he practically tore the silk panties from her body. Then he was shoving off his underwear and settling between her legs again. She opened to him immediately, her long legs wrapping around his hips as he pushed inside. He had no finesse. None whatsoever. He’d lost it somewhere along the way. Cara was ready for him, more than ready, but she gasped a little at his possession, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she waited for her body to accommodate him.