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And I swear this man can read my mind because he moves so quickly I can barely process what’s happening. But he’s lifted me off his lap, set me back on the couch, and is peeling off my leggings and fuzzy socks. Just like that.

He kneels on the floor, yanks down my panties, and lets out the lowest, dirtiest rumble. “Fucking beautiful. So fucking pretty.”

No one has ever praised me like this. No one. And it makes me even wetter.

“Yes, that’s it, baby,” he says, as he spreads my thighs wide, then meets my gaze and says, “this is what got me off.”

Then his mouth is on me with a hot, open-mouthed kiss that sends a jolt right through my body. I grab his hair, gripping tight, curling my fingers through it as he kisses my pussy—a man unhinged, a man showing me exactly what turns him on .

Me.

He sucks and licks, worshipping me with his mouth.

It’s incredible, the way he touches me, with flicks of his tongue and drags of his lush lips, and a blow of air here and there, then a suck on my clit that has me crying out.

But most of all, it’s his noises that send me to the cliff. Hungry, eager noises as he feasts.

Showing me what turns him on the most.

Making me feel like I’m drowning in his desire.

And I don’t want to come up for air.

With his tongue cartwheeling over me, I lose my mind, gasping as I detonate.

The powerful release steals my senses. It blasts through my body and mind.

I moan for days, gripping his hair as the orgasm seizes me. Sparks burst behind my eyes. Bliss radiates in my cells.

I’m still gasping from the orgasm, my body loose and noodle-y when I finally flutter open my eyes.

Tyler’s wiping a hand across his wet mouth.

Sexiest. Thing. Ever.

Before I can even say a word, or a thanks, or a wow, he shifts back on his heels, grips my waist, and lifts me, tossing me over his shoulder in no time.

I’m half-naked, and he’s already carrying me across the room.

“What are you doing?” I shout, then smack his back playfully.

His palm lands on my ass, a quick, sharp swat that zings through me. I shudder. No one has ever spanked me before. I kind of want to ask for another, but before I can get the words out, he says, “I’m giving you your second orgasm—that’s what I’m doing.”

Oh well, I can table the spanking for now then.

He rounds the corner and tosses me onto the bed. Then, he drops his palms to the mattress, bracing himself on those strong arms, muscles bulging, and stares down at me. “If memory serves, you wanted this too.”

He grabs my wrists, pushes them above my head, and straddles me. “Am I right?”

I look up at him—his overpowering frame, his intense eyes, his coiled strength.

“Yes,” I say, my breath staggered and needy, matching how I feel inside.

Because this—this is everything I’ve wanted. For him to hold me down, fuck me hard, wreck me.

“Fuck me like this now. Please don’t make me wait,” I beg, and I don’t even care.

His eyes flicker with dirty delight. He lets go of my wrists and sits up, grabs my hand, and says, “Take off my shirt. I know you fucking want to.”

“Presumptuous,” I say, but I’m reaching for the top button, hastily undoing all of them and spreading it open.

He does have tattoos. Like I wondered. Like I hoped.

I yank that shirt off so fast, then fling it to the floor. I press a hand to his right pec, tracing the dates inked there, recognizing them instantly. “You tattooed your kids’ birthdays on your chest?”

He presses his hand over mine, holding it tight. Gripping it like we’re both holding something sacred. “Yeah.”

He doesn’t have to say they’re what matters most to him. It’s clear. It’s clear in the way he holds my hand so my fingers can stroke the ink on his chest. So I can touch what matters most to him.

I’m mesmerized—not just by the ink, but by the feel of him.

The strength of his chest. The sturdiness of his body. The dark trail of hair traveling from his pecs down the ladder of his abs to the waistband of his pants, making my mouth water.

“I want these off,” I say, tugging at them now, boldness overtaking me.

I’ve never been bold in bed before—not because I’m shy, but because I’ve never really enjoyed sex.

Now though? I think I’m going to love it. “Get naked,” I demand.

If I blurted things out that night we were together in the hotel, that’s nothing compared to how I am now. I’m unleashed, and I have so many things I want to say.

He drags a hand down his face. “Holy fuck. I can barely keep up with you.”

I blink. “Is that bad?”

He dips his face, brushing his lips tenderly against mine. “It’s all good.” When he breaks the kiss, he tugs at my sweater. “And I could say the same to you. Get naked. Now.”

“Yes, sir.” I strip off my shirt and sports bra, suddenly naked before him.

His eyes don’t settle. They travel. Up. Down. Over every inch of me.

“I am going to have a field day with this beautiful body,” he says, flicking a finger against my right nipple and the slim silver barbell that runs through it. “And we’re going to come back to this. I want to spend a good long time with these beauties.”

“Have me. Do whatever you want,” I say, trembling from the pleasure and the promise of more.

Especially since someone is finally appreciating the piercings I had done a few years ago.

I did them for me—I like them. But wow—to be with a man who enjoys them so shamelessly is entirely new.

It might even be my new guilty pleasure.

He slides his hands to my waist, then stops. “Shit. I don’t have condoms.” He scrubs a hand over his jaw. “I haven’t had sex in…a long time,” he admits. “More than a year.”

And I didn’t think it was possible, but I’m even more turned on by his restraint.

“I’m very good at preparing.” I reach into the nightstand and grab a condom, adding quickly, “For us. Just in case.”

His lips twitch. “In case I ever stormed in here and told you I wanted a redo on the Night of 1001 Confessions?”

“Yes,” I say, smiling, even though that’s not entirely how I came to be in possession of this, but that’s a story for later.

Tyler stands, sheds his pants and briefs, and stands naked before me.

And oh my god.

He’s glorious.

His cock is as beautiful as the rest of him. Everything is wonderfully proportional. He grips himself and strokes from base to tip, squeezing out a drop of liquid arousal. I part my lips. I barely know what’s come over me, but I stick out my tongue—asking for it.

He drags his thumb across my lips and slides it inside my mouth. My eyes flutter, and I moan around his thumb, tasting him. When I open my eyes again, I can’t wait any longer. “Please fuck me.”

Withdrawing his thumb, he drags it against the corner of my lips. “Such a beautifully filthy mouth. But so impatient. You’ll get my cock, but only when I’m ready to give it to you.”

I whimper.

He smiles again, a closed mouth grin. “Beg me, baby. You beg so sweetly.”

“Please, Tyler. I want you. Badly .”

“You sure?”

“Yes!” I practically bang my fists.

“Spread those pretty legs so I can make sure.”

I’m on edge with desire as I part my thighs, feeling vulnerable and wildly turned on. He stares at me approvingly.

“So fucking ready.” He climbs back onto the bed, settles between my thighs, and, with intense focus, rolls on the condom.

Then—he spreads my legs wide.

Nudges the head of his cock against my wetness.

Draws a sharp breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he grunts out. “You feel so good.”

“You’re not even in me,” I protest.

“I know. And you already feel incredible.”

I wrap my hands around his shoulders, urging him closer.

But he pauses—stilling himself, like he needs to catch his breath.

And in that moment, in that hesitation, my heart pounds so loudly, so…wonderfully.

Because I swear his does too. When he opens his eyes, his voice is low and strained. “Tell me if it hurts.”

He remembers everything—including the fact that I don’t have much experience.

“I know it’s going to feel good,” I say, then urge him on.

He pushes in—gritting his teeth, as if he’s fighting off a groan.

I gasp from the pleasure, from the way it spreads, deep and slow, as he sinks all the way into me.

“Ohhh,” I moan, chased by a little cry.

He breathes out hard too. “This is…”

For the first time, he seems speechless.

He freezes. “I need a moment.”

I stop breathing. I didn’t expect that. I didn’t expect him to have to pull himself together. “You do?” I ask, a little giddy.

“I’ve wanted this so badly. Need to make it good for you.”

“It is good,” I say, and what a thrill to reassure him.

So I do it with actions too. Reaching around, I grab his ass. He’s so firm, so strong, and I can’t wait to hold on as he fucks me.

But he doesn’t start pounding into me like I’m used to.

Instead, he reaches for my right hand, peels it off his ass. Then my left. I’m not sure what to make of the move until he says, “Hands over your head, Sabrina.”

Yes please! I comply.

He stretches over me and pins my wrists down.

Then—he pulls back, slow and lingering.

Taking his time.

Then he slides his cock back in, filling me deeply.

And I moan as my legs shake from the pleasure.

He pulls back, almost all the way out, leaving me empty, wanting.

Then he thrusts deep again, sending hot sparks pulsing through my entire body.

As he holds me down and fills me he stares into my eyes in a way that should be unnerving.

But it’s not.

It’s hot. It’s thrilling—the way he wants me, the way he can’t hide it.

A shudder wracks his strong body as he eases out, then drives back in. “I should’ve done this a long time ago,” he murmurs.

My toes curl. “You should have,” I toss back, breathless.

He fucks me slow and deep, holding me down the whole time. “I’ve wanted this for so long.”

And maybe it’s the endorphins talking, maybe it’s the aftershocks of the most intense orgasm of my life, but I say, “Then stop telling me to pretend it didn’t happen.”

His eyes flood with heat and longing. “I won’t, baby. I can’t.”

And I can barely process the weight of those words before he shoves into me again—rearranging my view of the world, of sex, of possibilities with every mind-bending thrust.

With every pump of his hips.

With every press of his body against mine.

My mind goes hazy, my body aches everywhere, and the world blurs as he takes me in deep and slow—everything I never knew I wanted.

Then, he picks up the pace—harder, faster—sending me spinning as I fall apart beneath him. And seconds later, he follows me there, grunting, tensing, and giving me everything.

This is what I’ve been missing. And all I can think is—I want so much more of him.