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He does. Immediately. “No panties?”

Looking over my shoulder at him, I give him a grin. “Easier than you ripping them off.”

His fingertips run over the cheeks of my ass. “Where’s the fun in that?”

I turn to look back at him. “Sorry to disappoint you.”

Raising his hand, he turns my head so I’m not looking at him. “You naked in front of me is hardly a disappointment.” His hand meets my hip, sliding over my ass cheeks again before his fingers clutch my pussy from behind. “Someone missed me.” He rubs my clit, then pinches it between his thumb and forefinger. Fucking pinches it!

He breaths out deeply. “Aly?”

“Yeah?”

“I think so far I’ve been fairly easy on you,” he warns. “This time, I’m marking you as mine.”

Gulp. I’m not sure what to make of his words, hell, his promise. I think back to everything that happened the first few times we had sex and if that was easy, what the fuck does he have in mind now?

His left hand comes up and over my hands on the edge of the table in the dinette booth. “You better hold on.”

He frees himself from his shorts, the swollen head of his cock finding my slippery folds—I know, it’s the worst word—of my pussy, and I shake in anticipation, lifting on my tiptoes to gain height for him, and balance.

“Did you miss me?” He bites the nape of my neck from behind, but he doesn’t enter me. It’s agony, having him there, but just inches out of reach.

“What do you think?” My voice trembles with need.

“That’s my dirty girl,” he whispers, licking the spot he just bit. Tearing the condom wrapper with his teeth, he doesn’t stop teasing my entrance with the head of his cock. “Now tell me howbadyou want it.”

“Sobad.” I’m not going to tell him this, but I’d been thinking about this all day. “Just put your fucking dick in already, Ridge.”

He laughs. When he has the condom on, he eases inside of me, just the tip, slowly. . .painfullyslow. My forehead hits the table and I cry out against the cool wood, both in pleasure and frustration. It’s torture, pure torture, but I love every minute of it.

“Please,” I whisper breathlessly, squirming my ass to get him to go deeper. “Don’t tease.”

Does he listen? What the fuck do you think? He pulls out, waits, chuckles and waits another moment before taking the head of his cock teasing my booty hole.

I whip my head around. “Nope.”

His shoulders shake with his laughter. “Why not?”

“Because.” I bite my lower lip. “I want you inside mypussy,and I want you to fuck me like you mean it. What happened to all this talk about fucking the memory of my husband out of me?”

“We’re talking about me fucking your ass sometime. For now. . . you need to fucking act like you want it,” he growls, grazing my shoulder with his teeth.

He slips in—the right hole—just an inch.

I exhale. “I do want it.”

Another inch. “You do?”

Another inch. “So bad! Fuck me.”

“You’re hot when you beg,” he murmurs, thrusting himself all the way in and making my legs weaken. He’s trouble. Ridge Lucas is like Kryptonite or in my case, chocolate. A weakness I can never give up. I knew it from the beginning, the control he had on me, but now I’m sure of it. I’m screwed if I think I can ever stop whatever this is we’re doing.

Ridge gathers my hair in his fist and jerks my head upward against his chest. “Tell me again.”

“Tell you what?”

“How bad you want it.”