“Whatever happens, I’m here for you.”

He stares at me, searching my face. “I believe you.”

“You hungry?” I indicate the food on the counter. “I can warm up the pasta? Aiden ate the bread.”

His eyes drift over me. “Not hungry for food.”

“Me neither,” I murmur and step closer and toy with edges of his hair, running it through my fingers. “I couldn’t sleep last night, hence the hiding in your closet, and I barely ate a thing today. Studies show that when we’re feeling this . . .” Intense early stages of romantic love . . . “Euphoria, our bodies forget about basic needs and beg for more elevated dopamine, almost like cocaine—not that I know, but—”

He kisses me long and slow, until I’m breathless. “We can talk later.” He pulls my shirt over my head and undoes the snap on my shorts, mindful of my back as he eases them down my legs. His eyes burn as he stands and takes in the lingerie. I do a little twirl, and he chuckles.

“You looked like a dream when I walked in; you know that? It was all I could do to keep my hands off you with them here.”

I put my hand on his chest. “Give me one sec.” I run to my room, grab the item, and rush back to him. He looks down and pops an eyebrow. “Pineapple lube?”

I work his shirt up his chest and over his head. “Hmm, you’re a big guy, and my inner cowgirl worked hard this morning. Myrtle gave me the lube for my birthday.”

“What if I don’t like pineapple?” he murmurs as I unbutton his jeans and push them down his legs; then he kicks them across the room.

“Got strawberry and cherry. You don’t eat it anyway.”

“I’ll eat you in every flavor. Does it come in bacon?”

“Gross!”

He laughs and hops around, taking his socks off. “I’m gonna show you what I can do with that lube. You had control this morning; it’s my turn.”

“Uh-huh,” I say and ease down his black underwear. Magnificent warrior.

After stepping away, I make a dash for his bedroom, looking over my shoulder. “I’ve put the mirror from my room in yours. I want to see your face for what I have planned.”

He chases after me, and I squeal when he catches me and sweeps me into his arms and places me at the foot of his bed. After jumping up, I switch around on him and push him down to sitting. “I get one more time in charge, and then you can do whatever you want.”

“Let me grab my flogger.”

“Hush.” I angle the mirror I grabbed earlier, making sure it displays his incredible physique.

“You know what you’re doing?” he asks slyly as I get on my knees in front of him.

“Books taught me everything I know, football player. Prepare to have your mind blown—and your dick.”

His lashes flutter against his flushed cheeks as I take the tip of him, my tongue dabbing as I lick up his steel rod. “Like a very delicious, very long lollipop,” I murmur against his skin.

“Dirty talker,” he says in a rough voice as his hands go in my hair.

My gaze finds him in the mirror, tracing the flex and ripple of his chest as he inhales deep breaths. My mouth swallows his crown, and he hisses. Using my tongue until he’s slippery, I take in several inches, flatten my tongue, and slide him against the roof of my mouth—little trick I read about—making it appear as if he’s in my throat. I meet his eyes, and he groans. With an exhale, he eases me off him and stands up, tugging me up.

“I wasn’t done,” I say with a pout.

“When I come, it’s inside you.”

Desire makes me weak as he kisses me, his hands digging into my hips, smashing me against the full length of him as he turns me and walks me to the mirror. In a blink, he has my bra and panties off. Standing behind me, he bends and kisses my shoulders, the back of my thigh. “Mine.” He sucks the bend of my knee. “Mine.” His finger slips inside me. “All mine.”

Languid, I lean against him.

His thumbs tease over my erect, aching nipples, his mouth on my neck. “Every part of you.”

“Devon . . . ,” I moan, shocks of pleasure curling around me, at the feel of us, the intimacy that we’ve created, so soon, so fast, but yet, here it is, and I love him . . .

“Look how beautiful you are,” he says gruffly, pointing my face to the mirror. His eyes hold mine in the reflection as he clutches me, his tan forearm around my waist, holding me as if he’ll never let me go. “Kickass girl. With me.”

Chapter 24

DEVON

“With you,” she repeats, and I kiss her, angling her head to slant my mouth across hers. I won’t ever get enough of how she tastes.

“Devon, am I crazy? With you . . . this . . . it’s so good. Is it always . . .”

She whimpers as I sweep her up and move to the side of the bed, positioning her on her hands and knees so she can see herself in the mirror.

A long breath comes from my chest as I run my hand down the arch of her back, skating around her bandage and then kneading her ass. I don’t reply, just stare at her, and she watches me, her cheeks flushing, her hair a mess, her two bobby pins haphazard and close to falling out. I ease them out and set them on the nightstand.

Her chest rises as she watches me put lube on my length, then spread her apart with care, tasting her, groaning as I make her slicker. I’m past any finesse at this point, all man, just want to get her off so good and hard and make her fall for me until she can’t ever think about anyone but me.

“Dev . . . ,” she cries, wriggling as my fingers dip inside her. So fucking wet. One hand on her hip, I guide myself all the way inside, letting her adjust to the angle and fullness.

“Nice and slow,” I groan, knowing that’s going to be a lie in the next few minutes. I can’t get enough of her, I can’t think, I can’t . . .

“Please . . . ,” she begs, her shoulders bent to the bed as she presents her ass.

I set up an easy pace, muscles vibrating with tension. She clenches the blanket as I take her in a measured pace, barely hanging on to my sanity.

“Giselle . . . ,” I mumble as she clenches around me, and my control snaps. Speeding up, I fuck her hard, my pelvis grinding into her as my fingers find her clit. My heart pounds as the air around us intensifies, sharpens. I’m not aware of anything but her gasps of pleasure, the shape of her mouth as she gasps for air, the music in the den, the hard slap of our skin. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you today, baby. Dropped five passes at practice. Coach chewed me out, and I didn’t even care. I want you like this, want to make you beg me, make you cry when you can’t get me. You want that?”

“Yes . . .”

My fingers caress her. “I’m going to be the first thing you think about, the last man you fuck.” I can’t stop the torrent of insane words. “I want you”—thrust—“all those theories you got”—thrust—“and I got one for you: you’re in deep with me.” Thrust.

“Yes,” she moans.

I lick at the mist of sweat on her shoulder. “I’m gonna be needing this every time you walk in the room; every time you say my name, I’m gonna be right there, ready. I don’t give a fuck how different we are—no matter what happens, I don’t care as long as you’re here. I want you all the fucking time on your knees for me, and I’ll get on my knees for you, baby; just tell me, just tell me how to make it work . . .”