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“I told you,” I tease, watching River go in for a second piece of pizzawith pineapple. “You don’t know unless you try.”

“It’s gross.” He shakes his head, causing blond strands to fall across his forehead in a way that is so sexy I have to resist the urge to groan at the sight of him.

“Then why are you eating it?” I arch a brow in question.

He’s sitting on the far end of the couch while I’m tucked into the bend, my legs stretched out in front of me, giving me the perfect view of his profile as he eats.

“Because I’m hungry.” He smiles around a mouthful of food, a twinkle of humor in his hunter-green eyes.

“Liar. You like it. If you didn’t, you’d be picking the pineapple off.” I point a finger at the slice he’s holding.

For someone who thought pineapple on pizza was just wrong, you’d think he would have ordered himself something else, but no. He ordered what I wanted and tried it even though he didn’t want to. And that right there is just one of the many reasons why I’m completely smitten with the man in front of me.

The last two days have been... Well, unbelievable really. Unbelievable and so incredible I still haven’t been able to fully wrap my head around it. It feels like a dream. The best dream. A dream I want to hold on to for as long as I can. A dream I never want to wake up from.

“Then it would just be a cheese pizza that tastes like pineapple.” He crinkles his nose. “At least this way the pineapple offers some texture.”

“Keep making all the excuses you want. You don’t have to admit you like it. I know how much men hate being wrong,” I tease, poking my foot into his side.

“Wrong?” He drops what little remains of the slice back into the box before setting his sights on me. “I am a lot of things, Red, but wrong is never one of them.”

I instantly squirm under his intense stare, trying and failing to contain my smile when he grabs my foot and pulls me flat onto the couch before stalking up my body like an animal who’s just stumbled upon its next meal.

“Somehow, I doubt that.” I squeal in laughter when his hand finds my side and squeezes.

“Guess I’ll just have to prove it to you then.” He trails his tongue across his bottom lip seconds before his face dips to the crook of my neck, his mouth pressing against my pulse, which jumps against the touch.

“And how do you plan to do that?” I ask, trying not to let him distract me, which he is very, very good at.

“By showing you all the ways I’mright.” His teeth sink gently into the side of my neck, biting just hard enough to leave imprints on my skin.

I arch into him, silently asking for more, the thread between pleasure and pain so thin that it’s possible for it to be both things at once.

“How is this proving you’re always right?” I manage to get the words out without groaning when he nips the flesh a little harder this time, his tongue darting out to lick the area.

“Because I knew you’d like this.” He moves to the other side, repeating the process.

“And? It’s no secret that pain and pleasure often go hand in hand.”

“True.” His lips are at my ear now, sucking the lobe into his mouth as he gently rolls it between his teeth. “But not everyone enjoys the pain. I knew you would.” He kisses his way across my cheek.

“That hardly makes youalwaysright.” I start to argue, but he swallows my words, cutting off my ability to continue. Hell, making it hard to form a coherent thought at all.

“You were saying?” He smiles against my lips, deepening the kiss to the point that all I see is him. All I feel is him.

River Parker has a way of quieting all the noise that tends to bounce around in my head like an overplayed pinball machine. Everything falls silent. Everything but the sound of my own heart thudding around in my chest.

I forget what we’re talking about. I forget everything but this.

The feel of his mouth on mine.

The warmth of his hand as it moves between us, parting my thighs just enough to give him access to slip beneath my underwear and touch me.

“Yessss.” I hiss when he dips a finger inside, teasing me.

From the very first time I had sex to now, I’ve been searching for this. The high that River gives me. The feeling of being bent completely to the will of another andwantingit. He winds my body to the point of breaking and then pushes me further. He doesn’t ask permission. He simply takes. But he gives even more.

He works me like a violin and he’s the most skilled player to ever walk the face of the earth. He’s perfection, playing the song of my body with such innate precision that within minutes, I’m grappling to hold on to even a semblance of control.