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For how long would that be her answer? I wondered. At the moment it was always yes but what if we had another argument and she made it out of the door that time? What about when she went back to Oregon?

Before I could think too much, she came over to me and hiked herself up onto the kitchen island, sliding her hands up my arms. I sighed, instantly soothed by her, her touch some kind of hypnotic balm.

I cupped her face in my hands. She really did have the most astonishing eyes. And I pressed my lips to hers.

“Thank you for not leaving,” I said as I pulled away.

“Thank you for convincing me to stay,” she replied, slipping her fingers into the waistband of my trousers.

“We have some making up to do,” I said, undoing the shirt she’d just buttoned.

“Is that a promise?” she asked.

I unpeeled the white cotton and pulled off her bra to reveal her soft skin. Just like I’d wanted to know her mind and what she was thinking earlier in the evening, now I wanted to map her body with my tongue.

I wanted to know every part of her, inside and out.

I pushed her back onto the marble, smoothing my hands down her stomach, over the peaks and dips of her hips and down to her thighs.

“You’re touching me like you think I might not really be here,” she whispered.

I sighed and pressed a kiss just above her ankle bone and another on the inside of her knee. Maybe she was on to something. Perhaps the woman in my bed wasn’t the one I’d been expecting all those weeks ago when I’d first spotted her at the launch of the competition. She was now the woman I fought with. The woman I didn’t want to go home. The woman I was going to bury myself in so she’d never leave.

I pressed open her legs and placed my tongue flat against her clit. Christ, she was delicious. She was almost instantly wet and I wanted to be surrounded by it. I slid my fingers inside her, and she began to twist away.

“Too much. I’ll come too soon,” she panted.

I placed my hand on her stomach, keeping her in place. Yes, she’d come quickly. That’s what I wanted. I wanted her to lose count of the number of times I made her climax tonight. I wanted to leave a mark on her mind and body—make tonight unforgettable—not because we’d fought. But because we’d made up.

As I licked, Hollie gave a little wiggle of her hips as if trying to get my fingers deeper and my tongue harder. I growled at the realization she wanted to belong to me as much as I wanted to possess her. I pulled back, not to punish her for being so greedy but because she tasted so fucking delicious I wasn’t ready to give it up.

She moaned and I put my mouth on her again, this time letting my tongue trace her up and down, through her folds over and over. Her back arched off the stone, and I pressed my fingers into her again, grinning as I watch the calm sedation pass over her—like she’d given up whatever she was holding back. Like she had surrendered.

To me. To us.

I used my fingers to explore and twist while my tongue just tasted and tasted and tasted. She flopped her arms over her head and spread her legs wider. She was mine. To do with what I pleased.

Her bulging clit began to pulse and my hardened cock reared in response. Fuck, being able to bring her to the edge so quickly made me feel like a fucking king.

“Dexter,” she cried out and reached for me. I grabbed her hand, pressing my lips onto her stomach, feeling the ripple of her orgasm against my skin as she came.

Her eyes still closed, my impatience to be inside her took over. I wanted my cock coated in her wetness and my fingers digging into her flesh. Just the thought had me as hard as wood, sweat starting to prickle at my neck. I gathered her in my arms and took her over to the sofa, bending her over the back cushions and pulling a condom from my trouser pocket.

I stripped out of my clothes, rolled on the condom and rested my cock at her entrance. “Are you ready?” I asked. I was rushing. She rid me of the unflappable detachment that I had. I needed more of her. And each time she gave me what I craved, I got greedy and took more still.

I needed to take a moment. To breathe her in. To enjoy every second. But she undid my self-control.

“For you? Always.” I groaned and drove my cock into her, long, slow and deep. It was so good—so hot, tight and wet. I slid my hands under her arms and cupped her breasts. Her hard nipples pressed against my palms and she reached behind me, urging me deeper still.


Tags: Louise Bay The Mister Romance