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“Hmm.” I lift my head, studying her face. “You’re going to have to spell it out for me. Stupid as I am.”

She lifts her head, her lips feathering against mine as her hand snakes between us, cupping my clothed cock and rubbing me firmly enough that my vision goes white at the edges.

“Take these off too,” she murmurs.

I suck in a breath, rolling my hips against her hands before I even realize what I’m doing. “Are you sure?”

“I told you,” she says, kissing me gently. “I’m not the one who’s afraid.”

“Fuck,” I grunt, shuddering when she squeezes my denim-clad cock. “You keep doing that, and this’ll be over before I can get the damned things off.”

The sound of her laugh lights me up; it’s still one of the most unattractive noises I’ve ever heard, and yet, hearing the pealing sound of it, knowing I caused it—it’s damned near like music.

It’s a flurry of motion as she helps me shove my jeans off, as I help rid her of hers, moments after spent rutting against her, losing it a bit more every time I feel the heat between her legs enveloping my straining length that threatens to escape my boxer briefs.

It feels surreal that we’re here, that she’s practically naked in my bed, when a week ago I was pretty sure she hated my guts, and I hers—but is that true, really? I think back to what she said yesterday, about how even when she thought that she hated me, she couldn’t get me off her mind. I realize the same can be said for me. Was I really so busy hiding behind all the things I thought Ishouldbe feeling about her that I was blind to what I actually was?

If the desperation I feel for her right now is any indication, I would say the answer to that question is pretty clear.

The way she’s tilting her hips is a clear invitation, but still I find the question falling from my mouth, still not convinced this is real. I can see the pink of her nipples through the lacy bra she’s wearing—her breasts two perfect handfuls that make my mouth water. “And you’resurethis is what you want? I don’t—” I swallow around thegrowing lump in my throat. “I don’t want to be another regret for you, Keyanna. You’ve had plenty.”

Her eyes soften, as does her smile, and her hands on my face are heavenly, and I go down easily, meeting her mouth for a kiss that’s much softer than the ones we’ve shared so far.

“I’m sure,” she tells me between kisses. “Now please touch me.”

And even if my brain is having trouble catching up to this turn of events—my body seems to have no such quandaries.

My hands are shaking when they hook into the elastic of her lavender underwear, a soft, simple cotton that would never be called fancy but somehow is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen. Or maybe it’s just because it’s her.

I peel them off slowly, with a reverence I feel deep in my bones—my breath catching at the sight of neat red curls between her legs. I can’t stop staring even as I work her underwear down her legs and toss them aside, the color darker than her hair and such a sharp contrast to her fair skin that I’m hypnotized.

My hands look too rough to be touching her when I let them glide over the tops of her thighs—my tanned skin stark against her pale complexion, my calloused fingers abrasive against the softness of her—and yet she makes the quietest, most enticing noises as I touch her. Like she’s as hungry for more as I am. Like she wants this as desperately as I do.

“Wanna taste you,” I tell her, flicking up my eyes to meet hers. “Want your cunt in my mouth.”

Her cheeks go pink and her lips part, her pupils blown wide. “O-oh. Yeah. Fuck, yeah. Please do that.”

“Aye,” I chuckle, leaning in and simply inhaling the scent of her—intoxicating enough to give me a headrush. “Since you asked so nicely.”

She gasps when I shove her thighs apart. I’m feeling feral at the sight of her so soft and wet and pink, like she’sbeggingfor my tongue. I’ve never been with a woman who knew me,reallyknew me—and it’s freeing to know I don’t have to constantly watch what I do or what I say. That I can just enjoy this. Enjoyher.

I nuzzle between her legs as I draw in another lungful of her scent, and the sound she makes is almost one of embarrassment, but the soft moan that follows when I lick at her cunt practically makes her melt.

“Oh,” she sighs. “Do it again.”

I hum my assent as I drag my tongue through the crease of her slowly, savoring her taste and her heat and justher, really—closing my eyes when I do it again, letting her sounds guide me. I feel her fingers slide into my hair when I circle her clit with my tongue, feel her tug at the strands when I pull it into my mouth, sucking it hard before releasing it with a wetpop.

“God, Lachlan, that’s—fuck, right there.”

I love how vocal she is. How she’s just as unafraid to voice her thoughts in bed as she is in any other aspect of her life—and every pleasured sound, every gasped word, just spurs me on further. Makes me that much more desperate to take her apart.

“Prettiest cunt I’ve ever seen,” I murmur, holding her open so I can lap at her, letting my thumb press against her entrance, which is slippery and almost begging for me to dip inside. “You want me here?”

“Please,” she sighs, one hand still gripping my hair and the other fisting my sheets. “Just—can you—”

“Shh, I’ve got you,” I practically purr. “I’m going to take good care of this.”

She cries out when I finally sink my thumb inside her, wrapping my lips around her swollen clit and sucking it deep. I lift her kneeand bring it over my shoulder, gripping her thigh to hold her close as I lose myself in the pleasure of tasting her. My thumb is replaced by two fingers, and she moans at the stretch, making needy sounds as I rub at that spot inside that has her bucking against my face.