Not that I’d mind a hand job from someone other than myself for once, but that wasn’t how I wanted this to go.

I took her hand off me and spun her around. She braced herself with two palms against the wall. I’d only intended to unzip her dress, but seeing her like that—the long, silky hair spilling down her back, that dress hiked up above her ass, her thighs bare, those high-heeled shoes—I couldn’t help myself.

Pressing up against her back, I lowered my lips to her ear. “Spread your legs.”

She stepped out slightly.

“More,” I told her, pushing my jeans down enough to take out my cock.

When her legs were opened wide enough, I paused. “Do we need to be careful about—”

“No,” she said breathlessly. “All good.”

I slid inside her, slow and deep. A guttural sound escaped my throat—she was warm and wet and soft and tight. She gasped and whimpered as her body stretched to accommodate me, arching her back and sliding her hands up the wall.

God, I hoped she left handprints. I’d fucking frame them.

Gripping her hips with both hands, I began to move, rocking into her with deep, rhythmic thrusts that made her cry out every time I plunged inside her. It felt so good that I forced myself to slow down, breathe, take it all in—if I only had one night with her, I was going to make it one she never forgot. I buried myself as deep as I could, sliding one hand between her legs and rubbing circles over her clit with my fingertips.

Her head fell back as she moaned.

“Is this what you wanted?” I asked, kissing her throat. “My mouth on your skin? My hands on your body? My cock inside you?”

“Yes,” she panted. “All of it. I wanted to be this close to you.”

“God, Sylvia.” I inhaled her perfume, and the room seemed to spin. “I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you. You’re so fucking beautiful. I don’t even deserve this.”

“Yes, you do,” she whispered. “You make me feel so good. I want to make you come, Henry. I want to know I can make you come.”

Jesus, how could she have any doubt? Strapping my other arm across her chest, filling my palm with her breast, I held her tight to me and worked my fingers faster between her legs. “Do you know how hard I’m trying not to come right now?”

“W-why?”

“Because I want you to come again first. Then it’s my turn.”

“I can’t come twice in one night.”

“You can and you will. Right here.”

“It’s never happened before.”

“Even better.” I slipped my hand inside the top of her dress and teased her nipple with my fingers. “God, I love your body. I took one look at you in this dress at the party and wanted to fuck you right there in the bar. You make me so goddamn hard.”

“Yes.” She took one hand off the wall and looped it around the back of my neck, gripping tight. “Tell me.”

“Tell you what—how much I loved fucking you with my tongue? How good you taste? How badly I want to feel you come on my cock?” I pushed even deeper inside her and rubbed a little harder with my fingertips.

She moaned and arched and writhed against me, and in seconds, her pussy was clenching my shaft over and over again, my name falling softly from her lips. “Come for me, Henry. Now. Please.”

I lost it—grabbing her by the hips, I drove into her hard and fast, forcing her to brace herself against the wall again. Don’t be so rough, asshole, I told myself. She didn’t come over here so you could take out all your sexual frustration on her.

But I couldn’t help myself. I cursed and growled, my jaw clenched, my muscles flexing—arms, back, abs, legs. My body was hot and tight, desperate with the need to release all the tension and ache and frustration and anger that had been building inside me for so long and was now wrapped in uncontrollable desire for this woman begging me to come and asking nothing in return. She wanted me for me. She wanted my body because it turned her on. She wanted my cock inside her because it fucking felt good there—so good I exploded inside her with the force of a volcanic eruption. My world went black, and everything seemed to move in slow motion as the orgasm took over my body, making it billow and throb again and again and again.

Afterward, the first thing I was aware of was the scent of her hair. Then the sound of her breath. I opened my eyes and saw her propped against the wall in front of me, palms flattened above her head.

I wrapped my arms around her, pressing my lips to her shoulder. “You okay?”

“Yes.” She paused. “Wow. I can’t believe I did that.”

“Did what?”

“Um, all of it. Came over here wearing heels but not knickers. Had two orgasms. Demanded sexual things.”

I laughed. “I’m not complaining. In fact, I would like to tell you right now that you are welcome to come to my house every night of the week wearing heels but not knickers and demand sexual things—as long as you don’t expect me to behave like a gentleman once I let you in.”

“I think I’d be offended if you did. Half the fun was just seeing your face when I took off that coat.”

“Half?”

She giggled. “Maybe not half. But your reaction was perfect. And it made me feel so good. Almost as good as the two orgasms.”

“I’m glad.” Carefully, I pulled out of her. “Don’t move, okay?”

“Okay.”

Tucking myself back into my jeans and zipping them up, I hurried into the kitchen and grabbed a clean dish towel, wetting it with warm water from the sink before returning to the front hall.

“Thanks,” she said, reaching for it. She’d tugged her dress back into place.

“Let me.” I knelt in front of her, moved her dress again, and gently cleaned her up. When I got to my feet again, I saw that she was wiping tears from beneath her eyes. I tossed the towel aside and took her in my arms. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you? I was trying not to be rough, but—”

“No, no. It’s not that.” She threw her arms around me and held on tight, weeping on my shoulder. “You’re just such a good man, Henry.”

“That’s why you’re crying?”

“Yes.”

I rubbed her back. “I feel a little lost.”

“Sorry.” She laughed and sniffled. “I know I’m not making much sense. One day I’m here saying I just want to be friends and three days later I’m here trying to seduce you.”

“It worked like a charm.”

More muffled laughter, then she let me go. “I know. And it’s not that I’m sorry, but I feel like I need to be honest with you about why I came here tonight.”

I took her by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length. “Sylvia, you can totally say it was for my massive dick. I won’t be offended. In fact, I’ll like it.”

She smiled. “That was definitely part of it.”

“Good. Confess the rest if you must, but whatever it is, I promise I’m okay with it.”

“Even if it was selfish?”

“You’re going to tell me you came for the orgasms? No pun intended.”

She laughed. “Kind of. I had a really terrible day, and I wanted to feel better. Originally, I went to the winery only to talk to you, but you weren’t there, and I was really sad. Because I feel like I can tell you anything and you understand. You always know what to say to make me feel better. So I decided to come find you.”