His smile echoed mine, bringing out his dimple. “You’re biased.”

My hands dipped along the planes and angles of his back, memorizing every line. He sat on the bed next to me and made quick work of removing his boots, then slid his weight onto me and set his lips to my neck. My body came to life, arching toward him as I moaned. “I like this spot,” he whispered, and proceeded to lick and suck every inch of my neck. A wave of heat ran through me, leaving goose bumps in its wake.

My hips rolled into his, and he kissed me slowly, winding his fingers through my hair and holding me to him like I was something precious. Then he kissed a path down to my chest, grazing his teeth lightly over my breasts. The hard points of my nipples stood out through my tank top, and he kissed each in turn. “Skin,” I begged.

His hands followed the lines of my body until he reached my waist. He looked into my eyes and waited for me to nod, and then lifted fabric over my head when I raised my arms eagerly. His dog tags tickled the hollow of my throat as he lowered himself over me, finally skin to skin. Fire licked at me where we were connected, only to rage even hotter when he raised himself and took off his necklace.

“My turn,” I said, and pushed him to his back.

He grasped my hips as I covered him, and he kissed me so thoroughly that my body hummed. It didn’t matter if I was over or under him, he could still control every shiver of my skin. I traced a path down his neck with my fingers, hovering over the tattooed flames that licked from his back over his shoulder and transformed into words. “This one?” I needed another piece of him.

“‘What matters most is how well you walk through the fire.’” He paused for the barest of moments. “I got it when I felt…settled, like I’d made it through leaving…”

I didn’t push. Instead I outlined the words with my tongue. “Bukowski?” I asked against his skin.

He sucked in when I kissed the sensitive spot where his collarbone met his neck. “It’s so sexy when you talk librarian to me.”

I giggled, but all thoughts of laughter fled as I stroked my hands down his torso, savoring each carved line of his stomach. I held his gaze and lowered my head, kissing the delectable path that led into his pants. I relished every indrawn breath, the tensing of the muscles beneath my tongue. “Paisley.” My name sounded so good when he said it like that. I flicked open the buttons on his pants, and he growled, flipping me to my back. “You’re killing me.”

“That’s the idea.” I lifted my chest so that my breasts rubbed against his skin, and he consumed my mouth until I couldn’t think, only feel the slide of his tongue, the sweet pressure of his thigh between mine.

“I’m trying to go slow. Cooperate.” He turned his attention to my breasts, using his tongue and lips until I gasped his name. Each pull sent shots of lava through my veins, pulsing and gathering between my thighs, and all I wanted was to ease the ache. His hands glided down my sides until his thumbs hooked into my pajama pants. He kissed my stomach, ran his tongue over my belly button, and then kissed his way to my waistband.

I lifted my head to see why he paused, to see the question in his eyes. “Yes,” I whispered. My elbows supported my weight, and I lifted my hips, allowing him to slide my pants the rest of the way off. He didn’t look away from me but held my eyes as he dragged my panties down my thighs. There was nothing but love, almost reverence in his eyes. I lifted my legs out one at a time, placing them on either side of him.

His gaze raked over me, turning from sweet to hungry. “Fucking perfect, every inch of you.” His praise warmed me to the tips of my toes.

I drew my feet up along his pants and pushed them down. “Off.”

“Bossy.” He smiled and stripped them off, leaving his boxer briefs all that separated us. Then he slid between my open thighs and stroked the bare skin of my torso with his. I groaned at the contact and looped my ankle over his hip as he kissed me, a new urgency fueling the speed and pressure. He was losing some of that control, but I wanted him to lose it all. He’d been soft and slow since the ATV, and I wanted that Jagger again.

I skimmed my nails over his skin until I gripped his butt through his briefs. “Paisley,” he whispered, and I arched, rubbing his erection against me. It relieved some of the ache, only to leave me throbbing when he pulled away. His self-restraint was incredible, but I was done with it. As he sat on his knees, I followed him, kissing the taut skin of his stomach. “I’m trying to go slow, and you’re making that impossible.”

“Good,” I mumbled into the waistband of his boxer briefs. His breathing sped up as my hands moved to his thighs and gripped the bands of muscle there. “You feel incredible.” His fingers tangled in my hair and gripped when I grazed my thumb over the outline of his erection.

He pushed me onto the bed, thrusting against me in one long, delicious slide. “Stop that, or I’m going to snap, Little Bird.”

I reached between us and squeezed his length. “Snap already, because I’m on fire for you.”

He growled into my neck, and his kisses changed from languorous to abandoned. Yes. This was what I wanted. I needed him reckless, wild, uninhibited with me. No more caution or restraint. He reared back on his hands and looked at me with raw need. I whimpered and lifted my hips, the ache between my thighs becoming unbearable.

“I tried to go slow, to do this right,” he warned. Then he attacked, sliding his fingers into my folds and holding me open as his tongue licked over my clit.