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“Would now be the time to remind you that I got a lot of sleep in the van last night?” More curious than anything, I studied his expressions. The blinds were closed in here, but there was enough light sneaking in around to keep it from being truly dark.

“If you want,” he said, walking toward the bed while still cradling me. My heart did a little fist bump with my ribs. “Or you can just let me look after you the way I want to.”

At the bed, he set me down and then reached for my shoes. Wreathed in shadow and stormlight, he glanced up at me from his crouch.

“Did I tell you how magnificent you were last night?”

“No…” I said slowly. “Which time? When I was freaking out at the safe house or…”

“At the chateau. At the safe house. Before we got there. After. You’re a grenade with the pin half out, Gracie.”

The air backed up in my lungs and made it difficult to suck in a deeper breath. He set my shoes aside one at a time.

“Is that a good thing?” I frowned. “Cause that sounds dangerous.”

“It’s very good thing,” he murmured, then reached for my shirt and tugged it upward. I raised my arms so he could peel it off. “I’ve always had a thing for explosives.”

My mouth opened then closed, then a snort of laughter escaped me. It was such an undignified sound that I had to clap my hand over my mouth. Lunchbox didn’t help, his eyes were practically dancing.

“You’re beautiful, and you look fragile. Looks can be deceiving. You’re so tiny, it makes me want to build walls around you that no one can breach. You’ve got a hell of an arm on you and nothing about you is glass.”

“No?”

“No,” he said, undoing the bra from the back and I let it slide down my arms. The room was chilly, and my nipples peaked almost immediately but I didn’t think it had anything to do with the cold. No, it was the way his eyes caressed me. “Glass breaks, Gracie. You don’t. You burn.”

If it was possible to seduce someone with words, he’d just done it. Heat swept through me as he reached for the waistband of my pants. I fisted his shirt and dragged him forward. He wrapped an arm around my waist and hauled me upwards, falling into me like we’d both been waiting for this moment.

His mouth slammed down onto mine, hard, wild, teeth clashing, and desperate. So damn desperate. Was that need his? Mine? Ours? The weight of his kiss was a brand. He might say I burned, but he seared himself into me.

Then he dropped me back onto the bed, and let go of me long enough to rip my pants down.

He paused, staring down at me. Catching my right foot, he lifted my leg and traced a kiss over a bruise, then the next.

Some of them I hadn’t even realized I had.

Yet, he kissed every single one on his way to my cunt as if they had offended him personally.

I was already squirming long before his breath teased my slit.

Then he kissed my pussy with the same kind of open-mouthed possession he had my lips.

I arched upwards, straining against the feeling as he stroked, nipped, and sucked against my clit even as he alternated between thrusting his tongue into me.

Zero patience.

He had none, he pushed and pushed and that first orgasm ripped out of me with a scream. I shook as he lapped at me, and hummed.

He fucking hummed.

“This,” he said against my thigh. “This is heaven. You taste every bit as sweet and heady as I expected.” He pushed upwards and I ached at the loss.

“Lunchbox…” His name left me like a groan in a voice I barely recognized as my own.

“Don’t worry, Gracie. I am so not done.” He stripped off his clothes with the same lack of patience he’d shown to my orgasm, then he was standing there, raw, naked and beautiful.

His cock jutted out, thick and red. The tip was damn near purple with the strain. There were scars on him. They all had scars. Tattoos too and I wanted to study them all, even the one that looked like a chemical formula on his biceps.

“I want you,” I told him.

He took a deep breath, wrapping his hand around his cock and fisting it twice. “Just taking the edge off. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You’re not going to hurt me.” I pushed up and wrapped my hand over his. “I’m not glass, remember?”

He groaned when he relinquished his dick to me and I gave him a couple of solid pumps. Silky, hot, and hard as hell.

“You’re right,” he whispered. “You don’t break.” Then I was on my back again and he dragged my legs upward even as he pulled me to the edge. His first thrust is raw, fast, and damn near violent.

But it was perfect. He stretched me even as he locked an arm around my legs to keep them to his chest. It was like being taken from behind except I could see him, feel him and he drove into me again.

Hips thrusting, he pushed deep and withdrew, then drove himself in again. It was like he was trying to fuse us together. I fought to arch my hips up to take him as the strain showed on his face.

Then he struck that spot inside and my head went back as I lost my grip. “There…” The only word to escape me, pushed out with his thrust.

Words were meaningless as I began to spasm around him. His gasp was music, then he let go of my legs and I spread them as he fell. As much as I longed to have his weight press into me, he caught himself on his hands.

“Wrap those legs around me, Gracie.”

I happily obeyed that order and then wrapped my arms around his neck as he took my mouth in another kiss. We rocked together and I savored the feeling of him. The drive as he relentlessly took me toward another orgasm.

This time, he jetted over with me. His hips stuttered before he came in a hot rush and then we were just holding each other, slick with sweat, breathless, and it was my turn to cradle him.

He buried his face against my throat and my legs were like spaghetti, but he didn’t try to pull away from me. Instead, as we got our breathing under control, he began to nuzzle kisses against my throat.

“Lunchbox…”

“Hmm?”

“I think I’m hungry.”

He was quiet for a moment, then he began to chuckle. Finally, he lifted his head. “Are you now?”

“Yes.” I licked my lips as I pressed upwards and he rolled onto his back. “I know exactly what I want, too.”

He hadn’t let me do much before, but now I wanted to explore. I wanted to kiss his bruises. I wanted to taste him.

“Fuck me, Gracie,” he groaned as I began tracing a path down his chest.

“That is the plan,” I promised. I wanted more of him.

I wanted more of all of them.