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Growling low, I slam my mouth over hers. Tangle our tongues. Taste the inner walls of her mouth. She moans. Clasps my head between her palms. Strokes down the sides of my face with fingers that are warm and . . . bare.

Jesus H. Christ, she’s taken off her gloves. Her bare hands go under my shirt. Her fingers skim over my chest hair and down the ridges of my abs. My abs flex beneath her soft touch. My dick hardens more when she trenches her fingers in my chest hair and tugs. Pleasure and pain.

“I gotta have you, baby,” I say against her mouth, hating that I had to break off our scorching hot kiss to tell her I need her.

“Make me yours.”

“Not here. Not in an alley.”

“Cillian would.”

Fuck me. Fuck me, why’d she have to go and say those words? I lock my jaw. Ball my hand. Blaise covers my hand. Unfurls my fist. Brings my hand low.

“Touch me. Please, Maddox.”

She pulls me down again. Captures my mouth in hers. The kiss is slow. All-consuming. This woman unravels me with her words. I press my thumb to her clit. Stroke the swollen nub. Circle her clit. She is wet, ready. I slip a finger inside her tight, wet pussy. Slip in another. Finger fuck her until she’s begging me to help her come.

I aim to please.

I get down on my knees and eat her out. Her legs shake. She trenches her fingers in my hair. Guides my face over her sex. I lap up her flavor. Inhale her musky scent. Take a slow drawl of her clit. She shatters on my face. Comes down from her orgasm with a soft sigh.

“Make me yours, please. Please, Maddox.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.” I glance up. She’s rolling her head side to side on the wall, her eyes closed.

“You’ll hurt me more if you don’t give this to me.”

“Are you sure?”

“As sure as my name is Blaise Stassi.”

Blaise Stassi. My wife. My woman.

I get up off my knees and undo my pants. I let them fall and pool at my feet. Blaise stares at the outline of my erection.

“I want a taste.”

Jesus.

I nod, too turned on to speak worth a damn.

She tugs down my boxers and my cock springs free. I grab my rod and yank it side to side and back and forth. She gets down on her knees. No way in hell will I let my woman kneel on grimy pavement. I haul her up before her knees hit the ground.

“Wait, baby.”

Buttons be damned, I grab the front of my shirt and yank until the top buttons fly off. I pull my dress shirt over my head and drop it on the ground at my feet.

“Now you can blow me.”

She gets down on her knees, grabs my cock in her bare hand, and strokes up and down my length. Her touch is softer than the satin gloves she’d worn.

“You feel so good,” she purrs, her lips on my rod. “So soft. Velvety head. All these ridges.” She licks up and down my length. Mouths the head. I groan. Tip my head back. Put my palms on the wall for leverage. Otherwise, I’ll keel over from how good her small mouth feels on my cock.

“Jesus, baby, your mouth is tight like a fist.”

I slide my fingers in her hair. Guide her up and down my cock. My legs shake. The air is cold on my bare ass cheeks. She goes harder and deeper. My balls tighten. I’m ready to blow my load.

“I gotta get inside you, baby.”