“My turn,” she said breathlessly, pushing him back.

She went to her knees in front of him, pulling one side of his boxers down. She still held the piece of fudge in her other hand, so needed his help—which he gladly gave—to slide his boxers down. She shifted out of the way so he could get them off his feet, but her gaze and her hand, immediately went to the impressive cock he exposed.

“You have to tell me if this hurts you,” she said, looking up at him from beneath her lashes as she moved the fudge from her fingertips to her full palm. She closed her fist around it, letting it get melty.

“Oh babe, give me some good hurt,” he said, his hand going to her head.

She was so glad he wasn’t going to try to talk her out of this or even say something like you don’t have to do this. She did have to do this. She needed to. She wanted him to get hard as soon as he opened that box of fudge when he was home.

Paige reached for him with her sticky hand and ran it up and down his hard length, leaving a chocolatey mess behind.

He hissed out a breath as she touched him, rubbing and squeezing, his fingers tightened against her scalp.

Then she leaned in and put her tongue to work cleaning up the mess. She licked and sucked until he was gripping her hair and breathing raggedly.

“Paige. Fuck. God. Sweetheart.”

He could only manage single words it seemed, and she felt a definite surge of power knowing she was making him lose the ability to speak.

She took him deep and felt his whole body stiffen.

“No. Not like this.”

Suddenly she found herself hauled to her feet, swung around, and tossed onto the mattress.

He immediately crawled up her body. He took her mouth in a deep, searing kiss and she arched into him, seeking full-body contact and heat. She needed all of his hardness against all of her softness.

He drove his fingers into her hair, holding her head still as he kissed her, his tongue stroking deep and amazingly making her clit ache as if he were licking it. She gripped his shoulders, wrapping her legs around him.

His cock pressed against her, hot and heavy and she whimpered. “Please, Mitch.”

“Anything you want.”

“You. Just you. All of you. Please.”

“I don’t know if I can take you slow, sweetheart.” He moved his mouth along her jaw. “I’m trying to get some control here.”

“No. Not slow.” She tried to shake her head, but he still held her. She looked up at him. “Hard. Please.”

He blew out a breath. “The first time… we got a little wild. But this time, I’ve been thinking about you, waiting for you, for a long time now. This might be… really hard.”

When he’d told her before that he hadn’t been with anyone else it had sent a shot of adrenaline through her that had felt a lot like panic. This was too intense, too fast, too much. She didn’t want to be totally absorbed in someone. She didn’t want someone who would be totally absorbed in her.

But now when he said it, she felt a surge of a different kind.

Mine.

She had never felt that way about another person. She didn’t feel that way about a single possession, her apartment, or her hometown. She didn’t even feel it when she looked at her yoga studio or thought about the business she’d created. She felt it about her cats in some cases. Technically they were all available for adoption, but she kept her cats, the ones she just felt needed her and no one else, in another room when people came to look to adopt.

But in that moment, with Mitch, with him telling her that he’d been waiting on her, she felt it.

Mine. She wanted him to be hers.

She was so screwed.

“Yes,” she said softly. She pressed one heel into his ass, but she moved her hands to hold his face. “Hard. Deep. Take me, Mitch.”

His jaw tensed as he stared into her eyes for a long moment. Then he gave her a nod. “Glad we’re on that same page.”

She had a feeling the page they were on was not the fuck-me-hard page. It was more than that. Deeper. More serious.

But it didn’t make her stomach tighten with trepidation. It made her whole body tighten with anticipation.

“Condom,” he said, shifting slightly. “Dammit. They’re in the other room.”

She shook her head and pointed at her bedside table. “In there.”

She had condoms in her bedside table. She rarely used them in here. Mostly she just grabbed them and stuffed them in her purse if she was going out with someone that she might want to use one with. She, frustratingly, couldn’t keep them in the bathroom where her mother might see them. Not that she was embarrassed that her mom knew she had sex. It was that her mom would want to know who the guy was and how serious it was and did he have a good job and did he like meatloaf.

She just couldn’t handle all of that, so she hid her condoms. Like a teenager sneaking around. Ugh, she hated that.

But Mitch didn’t seem too annoyed by the idea that she had, and had needed, condoms in her bedside table. He shifted and reached, grabbing them out of the drawer and tossing about five on the quilt next to them.

His eyes locked on hers as he pushed up to kneel between her thighs, and rolled a condom on.

Damn, that was hot.

Then he lowered himself on top of her again and kissed her.

It was the sexiest, sweetest kiss of her life.

She wasn’t sure what was different about it. It was still lips and tongues. But there was more there now.

Lord, just please don’t let him propose.

Then as he lifted her leg a little higher and pressed forward, sliding into her, and her neck arched, her head pressing back into the mattress with the sheer delicious bliss of it, she added, And don’t let me propose to him.

Mitch slid in deep and then paused.

She tightened around him and he groaned.

“Hard,” she whispered.

“Okay.” He pulled in a breath. “Hang on.”

She grinned. “You break my bed, you have to fix it.”

“Can do.”

She didn’t know if he was referring to breaking her bed or fixing it, but she knew he could do both.

Mitch shifted to brace his arm on the mattress next to her ear. The other gripped her thigh, lifting it, and spreading her a little wider.

And then he went hard. Braced above her, he was able to thrust deep and hard, and her headboard began banging against the wall just slightly louder than her gasps and cries of, “Oh, Mitch!” and “Yes!” and his growls and, “Fuck, yeahs” and “God, you’re amazing.”

Her hand gripped his shoulder while the other grabbed on to the quilt under her. But she couldn’t do much more than lay there and take it. And she loved every second of that.

She was not the submissive type. At all. But something about letting Mitch do any dirty thing he wanted to made her hot and needy.

And all his.

Did he ever think mine about her? Surely not. They barely knew one another. She had no idea why she was thinking those things. There was no way he was thinking them too.

“Paige. Baby. Honey.” He was panting as he thrust.

She arched closer. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”

And then she was coming. Hard. The waves of pleasure washing through her took her breath away, and for just a second she thought I can’t live without this.