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I close my eyes in a long blink, accepting my fate.

Her fingers sweep over my jaw when I press my lips against hers. She moans, and I take advantage of the moment, sliding my tongue though her lips. I want to know her. I want to explore every inch of her.

I pull her closer. I don’t want any space between us. No gaps. No secrets. Nothing unsaid.

“I want to feel you,” she whispers, pulling my shirt from my waistband and sliding her hands up my chest, just like I knew she was desperate to. Her touch makes me shudder, makes me hungry for more. I pull my sweater over my head and her fingers fumble for my hem of my shirt. I take her face in my hands, deepening our kiss with every breath. I wonder if I’m being too rough. I haven’t shaved for a couple of days.

I pull back.

“Don’t stop,” she says.

“Your face is red,” I say, reaching out with my thumb. “My beard is?—”

“I like it. It feels good.” Her voice is a breathy whisper.

Blood races to my cock so fast I’m light-headed.

“I want to kiss you everywhere,” I choke out.

She takes a half step back and pulls her shirt over her head. “I want that too.”

Her bra is plain white. I can’t pull my gaze away from the way her breasts push up over the edge, begging to be set free.

My breathing is frantic and I don’t know where to start. My mind is whirring. I want everything to slow down so I can think for a minute. I take a breath, turn back to the stove and shut off the heat.

When I turn back, her eyes are filled with confusion.

She needs to know I want her. Idefinitelywant her. I can’t remember wanting anything more.

She starts to say something, but I don’t give her a chance before scooping her up and striding into the bedroom.

Something switches in me, and I’m filled with the clarity of knowing exactly what I should be doing right now. I lay her back on the mattress and inch down her sweats. Pressing a semicircle of kisses from one hip bone to the other, I revel in her softness, her sweet scent, her fingers in my hair. She writhes underneath me and I have to hold her at the waist to keep her still.

So soft. So sweet. So needy.

I pull her waistband down a little lower and my lips follow. I’m teasing, but I want to draw this out. I want her to be crazy for me by the time I taste her.

I take off the rest of my clothes and crawl over her. My erection is hard against my stomach. I settle between her thighs, my hardness pressing against her leg. It’s all for her, but she can’t have it. Not yet.

I dip, pulling her nipple into my mouth, flicking and licking before slowly tightening my teeth and biting.

She arches her back on a scream and digs her fingernails into my shoulder. I swirl my tongue, giving comfort, while I take the other nipple between my fingers and squeeze.

Her knees come up either side of me as she groans.

“Feels good, huh?”

Her eyes open. Her face is flushed and her chest heaves between us. Her eyes flit over my face like she doesn’t know what to say.

“Tell me,” I say. “I want to hear you say it.”

She nods. “It feels good.”

“You want more?” I ask. “Tell me.” She’s used to being controlled—to being powerless. She has all the power now, over me, if only she’d use it. “I want to hear what you want.”

She grabs my hand and slides my fingers between us, down, down, down, until I’m touching her pussy.

“I’m so wet,” she says. “I don’t know how?—”