She’s right. I know she’s ticklish on her stomach and under her arms, and I know she’s honest and kind and has the biggest damn heart of anyone I’ve ever met. And I know I wouldn’t trade this moment with her for anything in the world.

“Open for me,” I tell her, moving one of her legs so it’s draped over my shoulder.

“Collins,” she whines.

“Don’t get shy on me now,” I tease. I kiss along her inner thighs, moving from one to the next. “After that night in Paris, I need to taste you.”

She opens for me, her legs spread wide, and I lick her from the top to the bottom until my tongue finds her swollen clit. She whimpers. “Does that feel good?” I ask.

“Yeah,” she manages to gasp.

She runs her fingers through my hair, pressing into me. The only thing that matters is her pleasure, and I throw myself into it fully, sucking and running my tongue over her hot flesh in a pace that quickens as my need to be inside her intensifies. I don’t stop until she’s crying out my name and desperately clinging to my shoulders as she comes apart.

As the spasms slow, and I pull away, her warm eyes refuse to break from mine as I crawl up her body, kissing her neck, her face, her eyelids, and any part of her I can find.

“That’s two,” I say. “Think you can handle one more?”

She blinks at me, seemingly surprised that I’ve been counting her orgasms. Her eyes are glazed over with lust. “I—I don’t know,” she admits.

I chuckle darkly, and stroke her body, running my hands along her smooth skin, lifting her ass to cup in my hands. When I press into her, stimulating her core, a gasp escapes. “That’s what you’re doing to me, Mia,” I growl near her ear. “Is this something you’re ready to deal with?”

Unable to speak, she nods as a low moan escapes her lips.

I’m rock hard and ready when all my wicked plans grind to an excruciating halt. I don’t have a condom. Mia shakes her head, tells me it’s okay. I can only assume that she means she’s on birth control and trusts that I’m disease-free, which I am, but her complete faith in me is astounding. Running my fingers through the long strands of her hair, I watch her eyes, trying to make certain she’s sure. There will be no going back after this, and as much as I hate that I’m rushing it, we’ve spent years building to this exact moment.

With her laying on her back, I kneel before her and angle myself to her center. Her eyes drift closed. “Open them for me,” I say. She opens her eyes and they are dark with her desire. “Keep them open. I want you to watch us. I want you to know it’s me inside you.”

She grunts as I inch forward and meet resistance. I can already tell that my memories of her fitting around me like a hot glove were not overblown. She’s perfect. I feed her my cock, one inch at a time, working myself slowly inside her so she can adjust. She wiggles against the bed and claws at the sheets. But true to my order, her eyes drift between mine and to where our bodies are joined.

“That’s it. Can you take more of me?” I want to pound home hard and fast, but I won’t move until she tells me it’s okay.

“Please, Collins. I want all of you,” she begs.

I press forward as far as I can go and grind against her, stimulating her clit with my length buried fully within. Her breath catches in her throat. There are five painful seconds where I know she can’t breathe, and I watch in agony as she struggles to catch her breath, her mouth open, but her chest still. “Breathe baby.” I lean down and whisper against her lips, withdrawing just a fraction. Her mouth opens and she sucks in air. One shaky breath, and then another. And then she’s clawing her nails down my back, winding her legs around my waist, and she’s writhing against me like she can’t get enough.

Fuck.

Unable to hold back any longer, I set a rhythm, sliding in and out of her warmth. She is mind-blowingly amazing, and I know I won’t ever recover from this, as long as I live. With a loud gasp and her fingers in my hair, Mia comes again. I soon follow, groaning out her name with my face buried against the soft skin of her neck.

Chapter Twenty

Mia

I can’t say how many times I imagined what it would be like if I ever had sex with Collins again. Countless times, each one was a tribute to my memories of our first time, and to how practiced and sure he would be the next time we were together. Each time I imagined being with him, it was incredible.

Yet none of those times can hold a candle to the way it actually played out. He was so attentive, so amazingly responsive to my bodies every need. I know in an instant, he’s ruined me for all other men.

I will never forget that when he came he buried his face against my neck and groaned out my name. That sound on his lips, in his rough voice, breathed against my skin was one of the best moments of my life. And now, his strong arms hold me close, as my body trembles in his arms.

“Are you cold?” he asks.

I shake my head and look up at him embarrassed. “My body is still...” I suppress a smile.

He chuckles, kissing me on the forehead, then pulls me closer against his hot bare chest.

Our first time together had been wonderful, a memory I will forever hold close to my heart. But that first time, just after, I rushed to dress, self-conscious that I’d just seduced my best friend and fled for home, with the excuse that I needed to help my family pack for the move the next day. We hadn’t held each other afterwards and had no time to talk about how it felt.

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