Reaching behind me, I take his wet hardness and guide him toward my entrance. “Now, Ronan. I’m going crazy,” I breathe heavily.

“Always and forever mine,” he utters, passion flowing from his voice and through his movements. And then he enters me in one deep, forceful plunge that makes the headboard slam against the wall. I gasp, not knowing whether to cry in pain or scream in ecstasy. It doesn’t matter. It’s much too beautiful to care. His cock slides in and out of me. It’s slow at first but the intensity of his thrusts can’t be denied. I feel them from the top of my head to the tip of my toes, and everywhere in between.

Then, out of nowhere, he stops moving. Desperation flows through me as I move my hips in circles, seeking my own pleasure with him still inside me, but it isn’t enough—I need him to take me. “Ronan … what are you doing to me? Please fuck me,” I beg.

He grabs me by the hair, pulling me back, and leans over my shoulder. He begins to move ever so slightly, his thrusts shallow.

Taunting …

Devastating …

I roll my hips, seeking that blissful pressure. “Say you belong to me,” he orders, his breathing labored.

“I do,” I moan deliriously, pushing back.

He tugs harder. “You do what?”

“God, I’m yours,” I whimper, shuddering. “I belong to you.”

Growling, he lets go of my hair as his hands come up from behind me and he wraps them around my neck, pulling me toward him as his cock enters me more deeply. And then he loses all control and fucks me to Nirvana and beyond. It’s brutal, violent even, but I love it. I’m coming so hard I see stars. Ronan finds his release soon after me as a ragged groan is torn from his chest. I feel him tremble above me as he lays his head on my back, shuddering.

After a few seconds pass, Ronan squeezes my ass while he runs his nose along the curve of my neck. “Mmm. You smell like you just got fucked, Mrs. Klein. And it pleases me very much.”

Too tired to move, I close my eyes and laugh. “You better let me sleep now. Your sex slave needs rest.”

“Not a chance,” he says thickly.

“I need an hour.”

“Twenty minutes.”

“Thirty.”

“Fifteen,” he murmurs seductively against my skin, his tongue trailing a magic path along my shoulders up to my neck and behind my ear.

“Aren’t you tired?” I ask, but it comes out more like a moan. His mouth and tongue are doing very wicked things to my neck. “Okay, fine.” I shudder. “You win. Ten minutes. Happy?”

“Blaire?” he asks, his voice a low rasp.

“Yes?”

“I love you.”

I smile. I love you, too.

Sometime in the early afternoon the next day, we stand outside the hotel about to go our separate ways. Both of us need to pack, say good-bye to family and friends, and we have to let our landlords know that we will be terminating our respective leases. My stomach is full of butterflies and my body is blissfully sore. It’s such a high to be together that nothing else matters. Tomorrow.

I wrap my arms around Ronan’s waist, holding him tight, and tilt my head back to take a better look at him. My gaze devours the mouth that knows every secret that my body has to offer, the jaw covered in scruff that has tickled me in more than one forbidden place. But it’s his eyes, the color of chocolate and honey swirling together, that hold me captive.

I smile with lips that are swollen from our kisses. “I can’t believe that we’re going to do it.”

“Are you afraid?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Eight p.m. tonight. And then forever,” he murmurs tenderly.