“More,” he growled.

Breath catching, she hesitated. But despite her trepidation, she could refuse him nothing.

She parted her legs again, until the muscles of her inner thighs strained. Need was a pool of heat shimmering and undulating in her blood. Emptiness thrummed inside her. Everything cried out to be filled with his cock—and all the blazing passion that came with it.

He grabbed her hips, then slid his hands to the small of her back and pulled up. At his silent command she arched for him, bending her knees, thrusting her breasts toward him.

“Perfect,” he murmured, then perched himself above her body, the rasp of his chest raking hers, making her tingle.

A hard press of his lips against hers morphed into a sweltering line of kisses down her neck, collarbones, then straight to her breasts. As he cupped one, he devoured the other, his mouth a hot shock to her system. He sucked hard on her nipple, and she felt the draw all the way between her legs. He thumbed the other simultaneously.

Moaning, she held Luc close to her, wishing the night would never end. Already, the man made her feel far more than any lover. More feminine, more natural, more ready for everything.

“I love these,” he murmured, switching his attention to the other breast. “I remember how swollen your nipples became when I sucked them before. Were they tender afterward?”

“Yes,” she cried out at the memory of his oral devotion—for nearly an hour—still fresh in her mind. “I still felt you there the next day.”

“I want you to feel me here again tomorrow.”

Quivering, she nodded. “Please.”

Luc moaned as he dragged her nipple into his mouth once more and gave a hard pull, gently scraping her with his teeth. An electric want surged through her body. He bit his way down the side of her breast, then nibbled over to the other and repeated the process.

He was harsher than before, more demanding. Already the tips were growing tender, and he didn’t show any signs of letting up. Even if she’d wanted to ask for mercy, she suspected he would show none. She sensed that he needed to find some way to brand her tonight, prove to himself that he had some part of her Tyler didn’t. Rather than assure him that he had every bit of her, she embraced him, encouraged him with a murmured plea.

His free hand roamed over her shoulder, down the curve of her waist, across her hip . . . toward her parted thighs.

She nodded. “You wet?”

“A constant state when you’re around.”

His fingers flirted with her belly button, but that thumb drew little circles against her skin, so near her clit she wanted to scream.

“Touch me,” she cried.

“Mmm, definitely. I’m looking forward to sinking into that sweet pussy. You were so tight last time, you grabbed me, milked me. Your arms around me, you screaming my name . . . So fucking hot. Unforgettable.”

Alyssa could only whimper as she waited for him to finally touch her where she needed him most. Instead, he toyed with her.

Her ache multiplied, soared. Arousal gathered in her core. She felt swollen, needy, ready to beg if it would do any good. But he simply brushed his knuckles over her folds, giving her clit the barest touch.

Alyssa gasped. “Luc . . .”

“I want to hear you say my name a lot tonight. My name. No one else’s.”

She didn’t think she could even remember her own name right now, much less anyone else’s.

“Yes,” she sobbed. “Yes . . .”

For endless minutes he cupped, laved, and stroked her breasts. He tugged on their tips, sucked them hard, murmuring his appreciation as they swelled, reddened, peaked even more. Her nipples were so hard, her want so sharp, that she fisted her hands in his hair, using him as her lifeline as she drowned in need.

Swiping his thumb over the taut bead of one, then the other, he stepped back and swallowed. “So tender and worked. Gorgeous.”

Now without his touch, Alyssa craved more of the sensory overload and stroked her own breasts. But it wasn’t enough to ease the relentless gnawing of her hunger. She slid her hands down her abdomen, toward her wet folds. Relief. She needed to curb the ache. Now.

Before she reached her destination, Luc grabbed her wrist. “No. I say how and when. It’s not by your hand tonight.”

“But—”

Alyssa never finished the thought. He crashed his mouth against hers and prowled inside, possession evident as he took the kiss deeper. Without warning, his fingers slid into her wet cleft, and he plunged inside. She cried out her pleasure into his mouth.

“Damn,” he breathed. “You feel so good.”

His fingers played her perfectly, as if he remembered her body and exactly how to make her scream. His devilish touch skidded across that sensitive spot inside her; then he alternated, pressing and rubbing, his thumb also strumming her distended clit. Fire converged inside, outside, tugging, drawing, swirling and growing. Again he smothered her cries with his kiss. She dug her nails into his shoulders, and he hissed. Then he sent her a predatory smile, a flash of sexual promise and white teeth in the dark.

“That’s it. Ready to come?”

He didn’t need to ask; he knew. But he wanted her to say it. Luc liked making her confess her desire. At the moment, she had no way of concealing it.

“Yes! Please . . .”

Instead of sending her over, he withdrew his fingers and raked them through her slit. “Very swollen. You’ll grip me so tight.”

He eased closer until he covered her, his chest pressing her deeper into the mattress, his thighs parting hers even more to accommodate his hips. His hands urged her wider still.

The anticipation suffocated Alyssa. She wanted Luc deep, so deep he’d never remember another woman and never imagine leaving.

“Tonight you won’t have time to think about anyone but me,” he vowed.

She never did anyway, but he didn’t understand that. Yet.

“So many sinful things I want to do to you, but . . .” He cradled her head in his hands, and she met his stare in the dark, drowning. “I have to be inside you.”

Alyssa tried to nod, but he held her too tightly, pinned beneath the lush heat of his body and her own desire. She panted, wanting, waiting . . .

“Look at me,” he demanded.

She’d closed her eyes. She wasn’t sure when. Didn’t matter . . . Now she opened them. Bing! Their gazes connected, and her heart followed. That wild sense of connection, of belonging, slammed her. She could no more escape his glittering dark eyes than she could her own craving for him.

“I already feel you all through my body. How is that fucking possible? Again?”

He didn’t answer his own question and didn’t let her try. She merely marveled that he felt it as well.

Then she thought nothing as he grabbed her hips and surged forward, burying as much of his cock inside her as he could. She grunted at the delicious intrusion. Already, she felt full with him and knew he was halfway in—if that. His back stiffened. He cursed, wriggling his hips.

“Always so tight,” he groaned. “God, you’re killing me. You relaxed for me, sugar?”

His gaze was like the darkest syrup, sweetening her, melting her, covering her. She focused on loosening up, letting him in.

He eased back, then surged in again, this time a bit farther. She gasped at his steely penetration, at her pleasure-pain.

“That’s it.” Voice strained, Luc gripped her hips with biting fingers. “Relax. It’s going to feel so good.”

Alyssa sensed he was on the very edge of his control. And she couldn’t wait for him to lose it.

Beneath him, she writhed, lifted up, taking him a fraction deeper. After months without sex, it burned . . . but felt oh so good. No one had ever made her love sex like Luc. No one else had ever made her feel her heart during the act, either.

“Yessss,” he hissed, gripping her tighter still.

Finally, he slid deeply and completely inside her.

The feel of him buried in her body unleashed a fresh surge of need—and a flood of warmth in her chest. As their gazes connected again, she flashed back to their first night together and a rush of memories swamped her—all dripping pleasure.

But as he nearly withdrew from her body, she clung to him, tonight took sensation to a whole new level.

Luc eased his arms under Alyssa, up the length of her back, hands curving over the tops of her shoulders. Then with a roar, he thrust deep. Once. Twice. Then she lost count.

The sensation lit her up, then exploded through her body. She absorbed the power of his surge by moving with him, opening to him completely with a cry.

More warmth flooded her chest as the ache behind her pussy converged. Her legs wrapped around him as she tried to grip him tighter, keep him closer. He groaned, panted, sinking deeper, then deeper still.

Luc picked up speed, setting a hard rhythm. His stare drilled into her as his cock did, never wavering. Every thought and sensation flowed from his body to hers, then back again. And Alyssa knew he could read her every feeling, too. As soon as a reaction hit her body, he adjusted to take advantage of it, deepen it, exploit it.

Dear God, she was beginning to unravel. The fortitude and pain, caution and fear, that had held her together for years were coming apart. Yes, she’d come for Luc before, but this . . . this was reaching inside her to claw out something she never shared with anyone. He was going to take the pleasure from her, steal it right out of her soul without permission or apology.

She tensed. Could she give that much of herself to him?

“Luc . . .” Alyssa squeezed her eyes shut.

Too intimate. Too real. Too deep. He was everywhere. Why hadn’t she had a lover in the months since him? Or in the years before him? Because no one else made her feel as if sex was anything more than a cross between an obligation and a bodily function. Even if she’d let every customer who came to the club have his way with her, Luc alone could take her apart, fill her with something so persistent and sweet and yearning, then remake her.

“Look at me!” he demanded under the relentless pound of his body.

And that compelling voice . . . No way she could ignore him.

Biting her lip and bracing for the rush of feeling, Alyssa did as he asked. She connected with his probing dark stare just as he rammed home.

Energy shifted, gathered, turned nuclear inside of her. Then she exploded.

Clawing at Luc, screaming his name, she burst into a million pieces, her heart beating for him, her soul scattered utterly by mind-bending pleasure. He rode her through the orgasm from crest to blast, pulling back as it coalesced into a tender ache that had her sobbing.

This time, like last, Luc used that as his cue to continue plundering her into the ultimate pleasure.

THE morning sun soaked the sheer curtains and hardwood floors. Gasping in a raspy breath, Luc pulsed up into the heat of Alyssa’s pussy again as she rode him. She moaned and clung to him, her nails raking his chest. Above him, she looked like a sensual nymph, nubile, striking, built for pleasure. She’d long ago seared through his restraint and good intentions. Again, he’d lost every shred of control, and as he drowned again in the fierce ramp from pleasure to orgasm, he was caught in her trap. And he hungered for it.

Her mussed pale hair swung around her, some ends clinging to her waist. The shorter ones around her face flirted with her hard nipples, which he still hadn’t been able to get enough of. Even now they beckoned.

Throwing his arms around her, he pulled her close, then anchored a hand at her nape. The other clutched the small of her back, controlling the arch. Yes . . . Right there. Again, he had the tempting little nipple on his tongue, his teeth scoring it just enough to sting. She hissed, then tightened on his cock.

“Come again.”

He’d been demanding her pleasure all night, and she’d been giving it with utter abandon. It was never enough. He needed to see her again now, desire parting her lips and making her whimper. He craved the feel of her clamping down on him and hearing her scream his name.

She’d grown hoarse hours ago, her flesh swollen to the point that every thrust was work. Luc had driven her to orgasm so many times, he’d lost count. He’d fallen over the cliff into a fiery pit of pleasure three times, saturating her every time, reveling with a primitive need to mark her that he’d stopped questioning. An odd relief poured through him each time he spilled himself deep inside her. No, he couldn’t get her pregnant, but damned if he wouldn’t fill her up anyway.

“Luc.” Alyssa sobbed his name.

Triumph spiked through him, followed by another insane urge to mark her. He laved one of her nipples again, then the other. Her pussy became sublimely, blisteringly tight. The fact she was so close urged him on.

He fit his mouth over hers, forcing her lips wide under his, and sank in as far as possible. The cadence of his kiss matched the rhythm of his thrusts as they strained together toward a cataclysm so powerful, it would likely devastate them both.

He pursued it with reckless abandon.

His body was about to give out, and he was furious. Hours upon hours he’d spent delving her, but he hadn’t tasted her cream with his tongue until she cried out in surrender. Nor had he worked his way into that tight, perfect ass. Tomorrow. No, later today. He would do both. But tonight, once he’d gotten deep within her wet folds, he’d single-mindedly submerged himself and watched her come apart in his arms.