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The flames in the hearth crackled softly. But it was the fire inside Julia that held her attention. It moved through her veins like molten honey—liquid and glowing.

Her heart thrummed inside her chest with a wild, insistent beat. Her breaths came fast and shallow, the air filling her lungs tinged with the taste of the burning wood and the lingering flavor of his kiss.

The man had the most delicious mouth. His breath was hot and sultry, like a summer night. And his taste? Oh, it was intoxicating. Salty and sweet and potent, like buttered bourbon. She wanted to drink from him until she was drunk.

She already felt drunk. Or maybe drugged was a better word for it.

Her limbs were heavy. Her mind was fuzzy. But at the same time, she was keenly aware of every inch of her flesh. Aware of how her arms tingled. How her legs prickled. How the flannel of the pajamas rubbed across her hard nipples with a painful pleasure.

All of it was because of him. All the lazy stupor and the heightened senses. They were a product of his touch and his kisses. Of the wicked wantonness of his words and the unquestioning truth that he planned to make all her fantasies into reality.

He towered above her, every inch of him a study in strength and masculine beauty. His dark hair was unruly—as usual—the thick waves framing the angles of his face and his cowlick sticking up straight to soften his otherwise stern countenance. His close-cut beard followed the hard lines of his jaw.

And his eyes?

My god. I’ve never seen eyes like his.

They were deep, endless pools. She wanted to drown in them.

Whatever happened after this night was inconsequential. Because this night was everything. This night was going to show her what true passion was, what true chemistry was. And that would be enough.

I’ll make it be enough.

“Are you going to stand there all night?” Her voice was deep with desire. “Or are you going to join me down here so I can get my hands on you again?” The smile she gave him was intentionally coquettish. She let her eyes drop to the hard ridge pressing against the gray cotton of his sweatpants. “And so I can get my mouth on you,” she added with a practiced purr.

His rigid cock flexed, stretching the fabric tight and giving her a perfect view of his shape and dimensions. Her throat went desert dry at the same time a rush of wetness slicked between her thighs.

He was…not a small man.

“Oh, I’m very much looking forward to the time you get your hands and mouth on me.” His gaze roamed down her body and stopped at the junction of her legs. His eyes narrowed as if he knew how wet she was. His nostrils flare as if he could smell her desire. “But before that happens, I plan to undress you slowly. To lick and suck and kiss every inch of your skin as I uncover it.”

Despite the warmth of the fire and the hotness of her blood, goosebumps peppered her skin.

He reached over his head, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and peeled the cotton away from his body in one practiced move.

She gasped at his beauty, at the shadows that danced across his tan skin, accentuating the ridges of muscle beneath. The black ink of the eagle feather tattoo on his forearm stood out in sharp relief and she wanted to ask after it, ask what it represented because she’d noted many of the men who worked at Black Knights Inc. sported a similar tattoo. She was distracted from her question, however, when he bent at the waist and pulled off his sweatpants.

He stood to his full height then, and he was…

Nude.

Holy shit, Sergeant Britt Rollins was nude.

And, suddenly, beautiful didn’t begin to describe him. It didn’t capture the breadth of his shoulders or the narrowness of his hips. It didn’t encapsulate the sheer manliness of his form. And it didn’t begin to cover how nervous she felt once she got a good, long look at what she’d be working with.

Emphasis on good and long, she thought a little hysterically.

His cock was so hard it thrust from his body at an angle that defied gravity. The shaft was heaviest in the middle. Thick veins snarled up his length, turgid and pulsing. And his plump head was so engorged the skin covering it was shiny.

“G-good lord,” she breathed, and then swallowed convulsively.

When he reached down and unabashedly gave himself a single stroke, the desire that slammed into her was a tangible force. It made her blood flow like fire and her skin tingle like it was kissed by Fourth of July sparklers.

“This is what you do to me.” His eyes were penetrating.

A flutter of uncertainty twisted in her stomach. But it was quickly drowned out by the waves of lust and anticipation that washed over her.

Sitting up, she automatically reached for the rigid column of flesh that protruded so proudly and begged so unabashedly for her attention. But she stopped when he shook his head. “Not yet.”

She glanced up and found his bearded jaw set at a hard angle. His chest worked over harsh breaths. And his gaze was hot and unwavering.

“Why not?” Her fingers itched to touch that rigid length of silk-covered steel. She knew the flesh would be burning hot.

“Because the anticipation is half the fun.” His tone was arrogant, as if he knew more about pleasing her than she knew about pleasing herself. “Let me show you.” He joined her on the pallet then, encouraging her to lie back as he stretched his long, naked length out beside her.

She wanted to run her hands all over him. Wanted to test the resiliency of his skin. Wanted to map every hard ridge and muscled contour. Wanted to fling off her pajama bottoms, climb on top of him, and skewer herself on that hard column of flesh that was as threatening as it was impressive.

He didn’t let her.

When she tried to turn toward him, he gently pressed her shoulders into the coverlet and whispered, “Stay still. Let me unwrap you like the gift that you are.”

She shivered at the idea. “Were you the type of kid who ripped into his Christmas presents? Or the type who carefully unwrapped each one to keep the paper intact?”

His smile was utterly uncivilized. It matched the jagged scar on his temple. “As I said, the anticipation is half the fun. Now, close your eyes.”

Part of her balked at the idea. If she closed her eyes, she wouldn’t be able to keep ogling all his glorious male flesh. But another part of her thrilled at the thought of letting him take the lead, giving him the reins to her pleasure and simply allowing herself to go along for the ride.

Her breath sawed out of her when she did as instructed and two words rumbled from the depths of his chest, “Good girl.”

Holy hell!

The air around her felt electric, charged with that intangible something pulled tight between them. It was like a live wire, fizzing and crackling. She gave into the danger of it, knowing that it might burn her.

But the reward would be worth the risk.

Then, all her thoughts vanished when she felt the air around her move because he reached out his hand. A second later, his fingers skimmed her cheek so lightly she almost didn’t feel it. Her body reacted as if he’d branded her; however, a harsh shudder ran down her spine.

Gently, he turned her head until she faced him. Her eyelids fluttered but remained closed when he brushed his thumb over her bottom lip.

“You’re so goddamned beautiful.” The timbre of his voice was raw and all-consuming. And then his mouth was on hers.

It wasn’t a frenzied kiss. Not like the one they’d shared in the kitchen that morning. Not like the one they’d just shared on the couch.

This was a slow kiss. A mapping kiss. This kiss was pure, thorough seduction. And by the time he pulled his lips from hers, she was panting and mewling and begging him to touch her.

She needed his touch more than she needed her next breath.

He seemed to sense it because, in the next instant, his fingers moved from her face down to her neck and settled at the top button on her pajamas.

She bit her lip in agonized anticipation when she felt the first button slip free, followed by the second and the third. When he spread the halves of the top wide, the room's coolness coupled with the heat of his gaze—even though she couldn’t see them, she could feel his eyes on her—and made her shudder. Her nipples furled into even tighter buds. Her stomach began to quiver.

“So goddamned beautiful,” he repeated reverently, his hot breath feathering over the nipple closest to him.

She couldn’t help herself; she reached for him. But he caught her hand before it could make contact.

“Not yet,” he scolded again, manacling her wrists above her head.

She was aware of how exposed she was to him, with her arms raised and her breasts lifted high in invitation. But instead of feeling nervous or embarrassed, she only felt excitement.

Excitement, anticipation, and an odd sort of trust that, despite his high-handedness— or maybe because of it? —he would give her pleasure unlike anything she’d ever known.

She dared to open her eyes and found his gaze locked on her breasts. His irises swirled like whirlpools. The muscle in his jaw twitched with hunger. And his expression? There was no quarter there, only a dark, ravenous need that made her throat go dry.

He wasn’t looking at her face. So she wasn’t sure how he knew she’d opened her eyes. Maybe he had a sixth sense about such things.

“Close them,” he growled. “I want you to keep them closed so all your focus is on feeling what I’m doing to you . ”

She nodded and dutifully squeezed her eyes shut.

He rewarded her obedience by sucking her nipple into the heated haven of his mouth.

“Britt!” she gasped his name, her toes curling in pure pleasure.

“Easy.” His breath was hot against her nipple. His tongue was hotter when he flicked it out to tease the tip. “Trust me, okay? I’m going to make you feel so good.”

I do trust you , she thought. For whatever reason, I trust you completely.

She nodded her agreement, and he focused his whole attention—and his entire mouth—on her breasts. He knew precisely what to do. How to suck, how to flick his tongue, how to nibble with his lips to delight her and have her blood pooling hot and heavy in her sex.

She fully gave herself over to him. Fully allowed herself to do nothing but passively participate in the pleasure he pressed on her body as, true to his word, he slowly undressed her and kissed and nibbled and sucked on every new inch of flesh as he uncovered it.

By the time she was fully naked, no part of her had been left unexplored. From her earlobes to her belly button, from the backs of her knees to the turn of her ankles, he’d used his hands and mouth to map her body.

Well, there’s one part he hasn’t explored , she thought a little desperately.

It was the part that ached the most, the part that needed attention the most.

The man was a tease. Wonderfully, terribly deliberate in how he went about her seduction. So that now, every single one of her nerve endings thrummed with lust. And he had but to skate the tips of his fingers along her skin and sparks of utter delight would go shooting through her entire system.

She could feel the heat of his body along her side. Feel the branding pulse of his hot, heavy cock against her hip.

She so wanted to wrap her fingers around him, feel him throb in her palm while she ran her thumb over his tip to catch the drop of desire that would bead there. But anytime she tried, he scolded her and repositioned her hands above her head, holding her captive and forcing her to submit to his relentless assault.

The anticipation of what was to come had her teetering on the edge. She was desperate for the fall. And when he finally, finally cupped his hand against her sex, a soft, broken sound escaped her throat.

It wasn’t a sigh. It wasn’t a moan or a panting gasp. Somehow, it was a mixture of all three.

“Is this what you want?” His words were low and hot as they swirled in her ear. “You want me to rub this pretty pussy until you scream?”

Jesus.

Dominant and dirty talking? Sergeant Britt Rollins was a fantasy come true. A brooding romance novel hero in real life. Every woman’s wet dream in biker boots and Marvel T-shirts.

“Please,” she rasped, pumping her hips in a desperate bid to force him to give her the friction she needed. “Please, touch me, Britt.”

A low rumble of approval sounded in his chest. “Then open your eyes,” he commanded. “I want you looking at me when I make you cum for the first time.”

Her eyelids felt weighted by anchors. But she managed to crack them open and find him looming over her. There was satisfaction in his face. Satisfaction and hunger unlike anything she’d seen before.

Daring to reach for him, she was delighted when he didn’t stop her from cupping a hand against the beard on his jaw. Nor did he stop her when she used her other hand to tangle in his hair.

“I want you so much,” she told him boldly. “I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone.”

“Good,” was all he said before allowing her to pull his mouth to hers.

There was nothing gentle about the way he kissed her then. It was raw and desperate. A claim as much as a kiss.

She met him with equal fervor, her own hunger fully unleashed.

And then he did it. Finally. He slipped his fingers between her folds and unerringly found the bundle of nerves that needed his touch the most.

She hissed. She was so sensitive; the pleasure was painful.

“So hot,” he hummed against her lips. “So wet.”

And then neither of them spoke for long moments as he reclaimed her mouth and expertly worked her with his fingers. He set up a remarkable, maddening rhythm, alternating gently rubbing her greedy clit and then slipping his fingers inside her, stroking her in a lazy come-hither motion that soon had her mewling mindlessly while her hips bucked and begged for more.

Time and time again he pushed her close to the edge only to slow down and back her away from it. Time and time again, her womb coiled on the brink of release and then ached in misery when he didn’t give it to her.

“Britt! Please!” she pleaded, her eyes open but sightless.

“All right then,” he growled into her mouth while expertly stroking her. “Cum for me.”

And she did.

Her body was no longer her own. It was his to command. And like a good soldier, it obeyed without question.

Her climax slammed through her so violently that her back arched off the pallet. The tendons in her neck strained. It was a good thing his mouth was on hers. He was able to swallow her scream of unimaginable pleasure.

Pulse after pulse of unending satisfaction pumped through her. He managed to draw out her bliss for innumerable moments. And only when her body couldn’t take any more, only when her thighs instinctively closed around his marauding hand because she was completely spent and so sensitive she felt like one huge, raw nerve, did he relent.

When he pulled his fingers from inside her, she didn’t know if she was groaning or if it was him. Maybe it was the both of them.

Her vision slowly returned, and she found herself staring into his lust-laden eyes. She wasn’t surprised to find his gaze was a pure blue flame, hotter than the fire in the hearth. More dangerous to her heart than anything she’d ever seen.

“Good girl,” he praised again. Then, he stuck his fingers into his mouth, his lids fluttering slightly as he savored her taste.