But that wasn’t him. He was blunt and no-nonsense. The worst kind of lover in his opinion.

Her mouth formed a little O. “Make love?” She made the words sound foreign. Maybe her relationship with Glen had been worse than he’d thought.

Running his knuckles across her cheek, he said, “Haven’t you ever been made love to? Did Glen ever touch you, kiss you and hold you like you were the most precious, sexiest creature ever made? That every part of him was meant to pleasure you, to make you forget everything, but the two of you together…joined in the most intimate of ways.”

A pink tongue darted out, licking her lip. “No,” she whispered.

“Ask me to do all of that, and I’ll stay the night.”

A heartbeat of hesitation and—“Make love to me, Bastian.”

He crushed her to him, lifting her up by her thighs as she wrapped her arms around him. He navigated his way to her bed and placed in her in the middle of it, settling his body on top of hers. He braced his elbows on either side of her as he simply gazed at the woman he loved and took in every little detail. The way her hair curled at the ends, the way her eyes were green and brown with tiny flecks of gold, the way her lips parted…the tiny freckle on her cheek. Her perfect for him breasts with pink nipples, the hour-glass curve of her waist, and the plump thighs that gave way to shapely legs.

His fantasy brought life by a deception he’d perpetrated, but he right now, at this moment, he refused to feel guilty.

“Why are you looking me like that?” she asked, starting up at him.

Because he would never get this moment back—the first time they made love. Maybe the only time. “Because you’re beautiful.”

Smiling, she ran her fingers down the side of his face. “So are you.”

He couldn’t help but smile back. He couldn’t help but kiss her, soft and sweet at first, then fastening his mouth to hers, he became hungry, greedy. He tasted, took and gave. He felt her hands on his shirt, her fingers undoing the buttons and a gasp of surprise.

“Tattoos?”

“Yes.”

“More in other places?” she asked between kisses.

He bit the soft flesh of her ear lobe. “Yes.”

“Show me later?”

“Of course.”

She pushed his shirt off his shoulders, and he undid his cuff-links one awkward hand at a time. His trousers were next to go, then his boxers, socks, and shoes. She wiggled out of her panties.

“Keep the shoes on,” he ordered gently, and she blinked at him.

“Okay.”

Not until they were touching, hip to hip, chest to chest, legs entwined with one another, did either of them speak.

“I have a confession,” she said, not meeting his eyes.

“And that is?”

She began chewing on the inside of her cheek. “I suck in bed.”

He nodded, nibbling on her bottom lip. “Men like that, I hear. As for me, I’m an enormous fan of sucking. ”

Laughing, she lightly punched him in the shoulder. “That’s not what I meant.” Her laughter faded. “Glen said I sucked and he had another woman to compare me to.”

“Did he suck in bed?” Sebastian asked lightly, though inside he wished he had cut off Glen’s testicles and fed them to him.

“I don’t know. He’s the only guy I’ve ever been with,” she said softly. “He didn’t like to go places, so I thought that sucked.”

He furrowed his brow. “Go what places?” God, this was hard, hearing about how much of an arse her ex-boyfriend had been. Hell, he was hard and trying to have a conversation was incredibly difficult. He wasn’t a slave to lust, but his erection kept brushing at her dark curls. Her nipples scraped at his chest and her hips cradled him perfectly. A dainty foot brushed at his ankle and he took a sustaining breath.

Her lashes flicked. “Down.”

Though he caught her meaning, he played dumb and kissed her breasts. “Here?” He teased the tip of one nipple. “Why would any man not want to suck and nibble on these very perfect pair of breasts?”

She moaned, “Not there. Lower.”

He kissed the underside of her breasts, satiny skin scented in vanilla and honey. She tasted divine. Making a wet trail with his tongue, he navigated his way down her stomach, over to her hip, where he scraped his teeth and made her squirm.

Parted her delicate flesh with his thumbs, he blew lightly. She was swollen and pink. Wet. Hot. “This low enough?”

“Please.”

“Don’t ever beg me, Daisy,” he growled. “This isn’t a chore.”

“Then do it.”

“Do what?” He kissed a plump thigh. “Wash up the dishes?”

“No.”

Another kiss, and then a teasing tip of his tongue to her very swollen clitoris. “Help you bake a cake?”

“Bastian, pl—now,” she said, her body flushing and knees shaking. “Lick me.”

“Here?” He nibbled a path up her neglected thigh and tongued a letter S there. “What about here?” Another lick. Oh so close this time to where she was parted—pink and wet for him. “I need very specific directions, love.”

“Between where your thumbs are,” she cried, her cheeks pinker than he’d ever seen as she watched him.

Giving her a wicked grin, he licked her slowly, leisurely. Savoring the tangy sweetness as she shook and moaned. He used his lips, tongue, and teeth to pleasure her.

“Bastian,” she whimpered. “I don’t know what to do with my hands.”

“Put them on me, pull my hair…clutch at my shoulder.” Another lick and she moaned his name again. He loved that sound. He loved her. “Nothing is wrong between us.”

He placed his tongue against her clit and massaged it, then worked a single finger inside of her. Her inner muscles tried to push him out, but he was a patient man and he waited for more of her arousal to coat his finger. However, that didn’t mean he couldn’t help things along.

He sucked her swollen clit into his mouth and her hips jerked against him. This time when he pushed, his finger went deep and he groaned. Her thighs widened and her knees bent. He placed her legs on his shoulders.

Glancing up, he watched her eyes widen. “What are you—”

“Trust me. You’ll like it this way,” he said. “Be as loud or as quiet as you want.” Then he lowered his mouth and started at the beginning.

She screamed and tugged on his hair as she shook. “Oh God…I’m going to—”

And she did, long and loudly. Music to his ears and his heart. He was pleasuring her, this woman he loved. He was giving her everything she needed, and she needed him.

“Inside me,” she panted. “I need you inside me.” Grabbing a condom from the drawer of the nightstand, she practically threw it at him. He opened the foil and rolled it on.

“You’re pierced there?”

Peering at her, he grinned wickedly. “It appears so.”

“I thought I felt something.”

He grabbed the base of his erection and rubbed it against her. She fell back, her back arching and her thigh widening to accommodate him. “Ready?”

“Yes.” She tugged at his shoulder, urging him on. Slowly, he entered her, the blunt head of him stretching her. She made a little noise, her face contorting slightly. “You’re very big.”

He kissed her nose. “And you’re very tight.” A quick roll of his hips and he was seated halfway inside. “Am I hurting you?”

Eyes glazed with passion blinked up at him. “Feels too good.”

“No such thing.” He withdrew a little and then thrust inside. Hard. She grabbed his shoulder and dug her nails into the skin. He hissed in pleasure. So much pleasure. So much everything.

Nothing had ever felt so good, and he didn’t think it was only the physical aspect of it. No, he knew it was the emotional aspect. He was making love to Daisy.

She whispered his name, sex words, and how much she loved what he was doing. But not him. She didn’t love him. She didn’t know him.

It would have to suffice.

Instead of dwelling on what she didn’t feel, he concentrated on what he could make her feel. He concentrated on her, on every sigh, every moan, and every flutter her lashes made. He rocked inside of her, rolling his hips… withdrawing and reentering with measured thrusts.

“Do you like this?” he asked. “Or this?”

“That.” Her eyes went wide. “Oh God. I love that.”

He lowered his head to the pillow, just beside hers, and breathed her in, his body at her command. And it felt so damn good to do it. It felt so damn good to feel her sweat slick skin sliding against his, her pants against his shoulder and her hands on his body. She stroked his back, grabbed his shoulders, and wrapped her legs around his waist, high heeled shoes scraping his ass.

“I think I have to come again,” she said, bewilderment in her tone. “I’m sorry.”

He lifted his head for a moment, keeping his body moving exactly how she wanted. “Then come. I can wait.”

The beginnings of a sweet smile began to grace her lips, then he slipped his hand between them and rubbed her where she was wet and swollen.

Her mouth opened wide on a gasp. His name on her lips.

That was all he needed, his orgasm taking over, making him lose control, not caring about tempo or thrust. Just the nearly mindless pumping of his hips that had him shouting her name.

***

Daisy came back down to earth, like a feather floating on the breeze. She was boneless, sore, and satisfied. Unable to stop, she pressed kisses to her lover’s neck and jaw. He smiled against her skin and rolled off her.

He hadn’t been kidding when he said he wanted to make love to her, to focus on her pleasure…her everything. She’d never felt so loved. It was a little strange, if she had to be honest, because she knew Glen had loved her and she’d loved him, yet sex had never felt like this.

Sebastian did everything she liked, asked questions, and expected answers.

And the way he’d looked at her, the way he touched her…if she didn’t know any better, she would have thought that he was sweet on her. Maybe even more than sweet…maybe—his fingers brushed hers and she felt him curl his hand over hers.

She smiled and closed her eyes, laying there beside him for what seemed like hours. It didn’t matter that he didn’t talk. Heck, she didn’t feel like talking.

“Would you like to be held now or shall I dispose of the condom, first?” he asked and she turned her attention to him, his lickable tattooed chest and hard abs slowly rising and falling, while he stared up at the ceiling.

Pulling her hand away, she switched on the light beside the bed. “Uh.”

“Or I can leave if you like.” He sounded like he was ready to leave. He sounded like he’d lied to her about the whole heart-stopping, panty-melting let me make love to you speech.

Oh God. The realization of what she’d done hit her, making her body actually ache. She’d just slept with a man that she didn’t know, the day after she’d been dumped, and oh yeah, he was paying her to be with him.

“Daisy?”

“You can do whatever,” she said, trying to sound cool and calm while inside she raged and wanted to crawl into a hole for being so dumb. For being so unlike herself.

He turned to look at her, his face unreadable. “I think I’ve said something wrong, but I’m not sure what.”

“It wasn’t what you said; it was how you said it.” She blew out a breath. “Okay, so it was what you said, too.” She covered her eyes with a hand and waited for him to get up, but the bed didn’t move. She peeked through her fingers. He still lay there, sexy as anything, staring at her.

“My confession: I suck at the what-to-do-after-sex part,” he said solemnly. “If you would explain your preferences, I’d gladly put them in action.”

Suddenly, all the doubt, all the anger, and all the self-loathing melted away, like a bowl of sorbet sitting in the summertime sun. “Well, it was nice when you held my hand.” Immediately, he grabbed her hand again, and she smiled. “I bet you want to use my bathroom.”

With a nod, he let go of her hand and rose from the bed.

Daisy had the pleasure of watching walk across her apartment, his stride purposeful, the large tattoo of his last name on his back rippling as he stretched along the way.

She sighed.

A minute later, he walked back to her, his body lickable no matter which way he was facing. And dear God, was he built. Everywhere. The piercing didn’t hurt things at all. He paused at the foot of the bed. “Now what?”

In answer, she held her arms open. He practically jumped on the bed and gathered her to him as he asked, “Like this?”

“Perfect.” She kissed him and rested her head on his chest, tracing the outline of a star tattoo. “Why don’t you have one here?” She lightly touched the space over his heart.

“Out of respect,” came his cryptic answer.

“Do your tattoos mean anything?” There were stars, skulls, knives, and words written in languages she couldn’t read, beautiful but deadly looking.

His pale eyes found hers. “They mean I survived.”

Chapter Sixteen

Sensing the need to change the subject, Daisy held up her hand and examined the ring Sebastian had given her. “This is very pretty.”

“I’m glad you like it. Actually, I bought it with you in mind. The chocolate diamonds around the pink one in the center reminded me of bits of frosting.”