Page 25

“Dalton, you wanted to make me feel sexy and desired and confident. You have.” I place my hand over his, stroking the soft skin of his wrist with my thumb.

“We agreed to keep this balanced.” I can see the protest forming on his lips and continue before he can interrupt.

“ And you wanted to feel a connection. People who connect with each other want balance. I want to make you feel as good as I did last night. Not because I want something from you, not because of your career, but because I want to see the same pleasure you gave me on your face, and know that I put it there.”

The worry lines disappear from Dalton’s brow, replaced by an expression I can’t quite place. It’s gone in a flash. He pulls my hand to his lips and kisses each finger. “You’ve already put it there.”

“Good, then let me do it again,” I say with a wicked grin.

Dalton’s feet shuffle, kicking off his pants and sliding them under my knees just before they hit the tile floor.

The padding is immediately appreciated. I lock eyes, grip him, and swirl my tongue over his tip.

His guttural moan stirs deep in my core and when his hips buck, I know he won’t protest again.

Need and pride flare as he bucks again, his thick thigh muscles going taut.

Running my other hand up his chiseled stomach, I push him back to recline against the wall.

“ Fuuuuck , you feel good.” The words come out through clenched teeth.

His hands find my hair, fisting it, wanting more but holding back so I can set the pace.

I take him deeper and Dalton’s head rocks back against the wall with a hiss.

Neck arching like he’s fighting against the pleasure, his eyes sliding closed before flying open to meet mine again.

I know that look. It’s the same one I gave him last night.

Need. Desire. Reckless abandon. My need rises to meet his.

I quicken the pace, swirling my tongue with each bob.

“Fuck, you have to slow down or I’m going to lose it.

” The words are near breathless, his chest heaving under my hand.

Dalton’s fingers tighten in my hair, like he’s wrestling with the choices of letting me finish or stopping me, but can’t decide.

“I want to be inside you. I need to be inside you. Fuck… please, Jenna .”

The glint in his eyes screams of desperation, carnal need.

It’s in that moment I realize there is nothing sexier than watching a man’s control fray and knowing I’m the one who unraveled him.

I think of the moments last night when I wanted Dalton inside of me so badly it hurt.

Needed the connection, and he gave it to me.

With one final, deep bob of my head, I release him.

I hardly move before his hands are on my waist, pulling me up and onto his lap.

Dalton traces down my thighs, guiding them onto either side of him as he sits forward on the bench.

Then his mouth is on mine, claiming and exploring every inch with nipping teeth and swirls of his tongue.

I hover above him, trying to line us up.

“Wait,” he growls with a nip at my bottom lip. Dalton’s hand slips a hand between us, fingers caressing me. We both moan. “Fuck. You’re so wet.”

Using the head of his cock, Dalton teases my slit, making sure I’m ready. The third time his cock nudges my entrance, I lower myself impatiently, rolling my hips. Dalton’s hands find my ass, his head rocking back again. “ Damn it. You feel amazing.”

I set a slow rhythm, taking every inch, letting him stretch me until our bodies are flush.

“You okay?” Dalton pushes wet hair from my eyes.

I manage a nod. “You?”

“Never bett—” He cuts off as I rock against him again.

Clinging to his neck, I begin to raise and lower myself.

Dalton’s hands grip my ass, supporting each movement.

His lips finding mine again, swallowing each moan.

I try to keep the pace slow, to make this moment last, to slow the ticking clock I put on us.

To memorize every touch, every moment before it’s gone.

Already last night seems like a fevered blur and I never want to forget the way his hands feel on me, the way his lips claim mine, the nip of his teeth hardening my nipples, the look in his eyes when he begged me.

I want to remember it all. Every moment of our bodies coming together, every second of the date we shared.

I was so stupid for wanting to forget this incredible man.

Our breaths become ragged, the pace punishing as we race closer to the edge together. Dalton’s hand slides up my spine, gripping the back of my neck, pulling me harder into each thrust. My cry echoes against the tile walls, and it’s my turn to beg.

“Dalton.” It comes out as a whimper. Tremors shake through my legs as my core tightens.

“I’ve got you.” He pulls down harder, sitting forward so my clit rubs against him and in two thrusts, I shatter.

Dalton moves with measured restraint, jaw clenched in concentration, helping me ride out the pleasure coursing through my body, and just as I come down, he’s shouting my name and holding me against him like a lifeline.

I’m not sure how long we sit there, bodies knotted together, tucking into each other’s necks as our breathing settles.

Dalton’s hands flatten against my back as he cradles me, two bodies pressing together like matching puzzle pieces.

It’s far too intimate and perfect. Damn, I miss someone holding me this way.

Dalton stirs first, trailing butterfly kisses along my shoulder.

Those tantalizing fingers drawing circles at the base of my spine.

I’m dangerously close to dreaming of more.

That thought alone has me moving. We both hiss as I rise off his lap, but as my legs unfurl, feet finding the tiled floor, the room sways and I have to clutch his shoulders for balance.

“Are you alright?” Dalton’s hands take hold of my waist, steadying me.

I try for an easy smile. “Yeah, just a little dizzy. I’ve gone from couch potato to marathon runner in twenty-four hours. I should have paced myself for sex with you.”

His returning smile is radiant and far too pleased. “Are you saying I over-sexed you?”

“I’m definitely not under-sexed. And maybe a little drunk on orgasms at the moment.” I can’t help my own lazy grin. Yes, I’m going to be sore later. Yes, my thighs are going to burn tomorrow from our little bench session. Worth it?

You bet your ass. Worth every damn second.

The part that terrifies me is the jolt deep inside my chest that has less to do with the sex and everything to do with the man who’s staring at me like I’m everything he’s ever wanted and how much I want that to be true.

Fuck. That look is so not part of our deal.