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“Be quiet when you do. They hear you scream and you’ll gain attention.”

“I hate you.”

“You don’t.” He rubbed harder and the fissure holding my control split in half. I reached forward, curled my hand around the edge of the table and my head fell forward. My body sparked and tightened, trembled as the orgasm hit me, delicious and strong as I forced myself to remain quiet.

The water glasses shook, china and crystal clinking and tinkling as I rode it out, unable to move away from him, unable to move closer. I sat there, sweat beading at my temples as he leaned toward me, kissed my cheek, my jaw, my lips. “So fucking beautiful, Rebecca. I could watch you come every day for the rest of my life, doing nothing but watch you light up for me, and still feel like I conquered the world.”

“Sir.” I covered his hand with mine, dug into the strength of his hand and turned to him. He smothered my next cries with a kiss, his ministrations unrelenting.

One orgasm rolled into another. He swallowed my whimpers and I fell apart completely, sagging into him and then he wrapped me in his arms, his lips at the crook of my neck.

“And yes, before you find some way to twist that shit I just said, I meant every word of it.”

God. Damn. Him.

How? How did he have the talent to say such deliciously blissful things, in such a dirty way, that gave hope to how deeply he truly cared about me? But it’d been weeks.

Just weeks, days since we saw each other at Luminous.

How could he mean so much so deeply, so quickly?

It didn’t matter.

I felt the same.

New life, new year, new goals. He offered it all to me and I was taking it.

Pushing away the rational and the logical, I inhaled a breath, steadied myself and uncurled my fingers from the table and his hand and peered at him. “We need to talk.”