Page 70 of The Fates We Tame

“If it’s the same as how much I was turned on by sitting on it, then yes, Theo, I do.”

He grins and unzips the leather jacket. I strip off his cut, and he takes it from me to lay it carefully over the back of the chair. But when he returns to me, it’s as a hungry man. Buttons hit the floor. From his denim shirt or my blouse, I don’t know.

I find I don’t care.

Not when Theo’s hand slips over my breast and squeezes it hard before slipping into the cup of my bra.

My breath catches in my throat.

His lips trace lines over my face, along my shoulder, up my neck.

He licks and bites and I follow his lead, nipping the skin of his shoulder. Theo groans as I do.

He drops to his knees in front of me and removes the rest of my clothing until I’m standing naked in front of him.

“I’m picking you up and walking you to the bed because it’s fucking hot, and I want to feel you against me. Not because you need help.”

“Right now, you could do anything you want and I would probably let you.”

Theo is still wearing his jeans, and the denim of his fly brushes against my sensitive clit. It feels good, and I roll my hips against him.

“Fuck, I love that you’re eager, Sparrow.”

He lowers me to the bed, and we land in a clumsy pile. “That went smoother in my head,” he says.

It hits me that I’m not the only one still reconciling with who I am now, so I stroke my fingers through his hair. “I thought it was romantic.”

He kisses me. “Same rules as last night. We do what feels good until it doesn’t. We should have a safe word.”

“Sparrow?” I suggest.

He kisses me again, softly. “No. Because there’s a chance I might say it when I’m balls deep in you, and stopping would be the last thing on my mind.”

“What about ‘Harley’? You took me on my first ride on one today.”

“Fine. Harley,” he says. “You say that, and we stop.”

“Permanently?”

He shakes his head. “Depends why we stopped. If you got a cramp or need to change position, then we continue once you’re comfortable. But if you’ve had enough, we’re done.”

“What if you’ve had enough?”

He runs his fingertips between the valley of my breasts. “Pretty certain that’s an impossibility right now.” His lips follow his fingers, and I press my head back against the mattress.

Theo stands suddenly, his hand reaching for the button of his jeans. “Wiggle up the bed a little more. I want you dead center so I’ve got room to work.”

I follow his instructions without any embarrassment, even as I mentally debate removing my eye patch. But something holds me back. This moment is overwhelming already.

“You’re beautiful, Sophia.”

It’s almost like he could read my mind, could hear the worries I had.

He slips out of his boots and socks, then removes his jeans and boxer briefs. “You’re like one of those Italian sculptures,” I say.

He looks down and runs a hand over his abs. “Feeling a bit soft right now to be honest.”

“What would you say to me if I said that to you?”