Doesn’t seem to matter; her expression goes soft, pleased. “Okay then.”

“Okay,” I whisper in agreement, set free by her simple acceptance.

She pulls me closer and kisses me—little presses of her lips, sweet darts that shoot straight to my heart and make it flutter.

If I looked at myself from the outside, I wouldn’t recognize this man who acknowledges his heart is all a-flutter, who smiles against Sophie’s mouth as she keeps kissing. But I like it. I love it.

“More,” she demands, suckling my lower lip. “Kiss me more.”

I chuckle, a breath of sound she captures. “You’re kissing me,” I point out.

“Because you’re delicious.” She dips her tongue between my lips, a slow glide, a lazy taste. “I love your mouth.”

I angle my head, taste her back. “I love yours more.”

“Mmm.” She melts into me, takes my breath and gives it back to me. “Give me another.”

I lick deeper, my mind going hazy, my mouth sensitive to every touch.

“Again,” she says, smiling, kissing.

My hand cups her sweaty cheek. “My greedy, chatty girl.”

With an adorable little grunt, she pushes me onto my back, going at my mouth as if I’m her first taste of chocolate. And I laugh, a low breath against her lips, my heart still fucking fluttering. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are cartoon hearts in my eyes, and I don’t bloody care.

We drift, content to simply kiss and touch each other as if we’re reassuring ourselves this is real. Pleasure makes my body heavy and warm, my movements slow.

“You do apologies pretty well,” she says after a time.

We’re nose to nose, our limbs so entwined she feels like a part of me.

“Pretty well?” My thumb glides along the elegant line of her collarbone. “I do many things very well.”

“Excellent, even,” she agrees, kissing the bridge of my nose. “Now do me well.”

With an evil grin, I slide my hand down the curve of her thigh and grasp the crook of her knee, bringing it up to my hip. Exposed, she’s glistening wet, pretty pink. My cock pulses in approval.

“As you wish,” I say, guiding myself to her warm, wet well of addiction and pushing in deep.

She gasps and groans, the sound so erotic, I thrust harder than planned. But she merely grins. “Quotes The Princess Bride and has a big, hard cock. I’ve hit the jackpot.”

I know I’m the true winner, but that doesn’t stop me from taking her hands in mine and raising them over her head so her pretty tits lift high.

“Hush now and spread those lovely thighs wider like a good, chatty girl. I’ve work to do here.”

 

* * *

 

Sophie drifts away from my side as we take the elevator down to the lobby in the morning. I tug her right back where she belongs, and wrap an arm around her waist to keep her there.

A soft blush colors her cheeks as she smiles up at me. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a handsy guy.”

I’ve had my hands on every inch of her at this point—an experience I want to repeat. Often. I rub the delectable curve of her hip, because I can.

“I’m not. This is a Sophie only condition. Does it bother you?”

I don’t know what I’ll do if she doesn’t like it. Probably live with my hands permanently tucked into my pockets to keep from reaching for her. But she simply grins wide and rests her head on my shoulder, her hand smoothing down my chest. It feels so good, I find myself leaning into her touch.

“I think last night made it clear that I love you touching me,” she says.

Last night. Heat licks over my skin and settles in my cock. We fucked until we were shaking and breathless. I kissed her until I couldn’t feel my own lips. And still I kissed her some more.

I want more now. But I’m not sure I can handle it. The battering my body took fighting, the lack of sleep when I feared I’d lost my chance with Sophie, and the lack of sleep when I finally had Sophie is catching up on me.

I’m lightheaded, slightly dizzy—euphoric and just plain exhausted. I wouldn’t change a thing, however. Not when the end result is Sophie being well and truly mine.

The elevator arrives at the lobby, and we exit. Across the way, the guys have congregated, drinking coffee in the lounge. They’ve drawn a fair bit of attention, but they don’t seem to care.

At my side, Sophie’s steps slow.

I slow too. “What is it?”

She nibbles on the corner of her lip. “How do you want to play this?”

“This?” I ask blankly.

She glances toward the guys. “I’m thinking you’re not big on public displays of affection. If you’d rather we kept things to ourselves—”

I step into her space, cup her cheeks, and kiss her. Do I care for public displays? No. Can I keep my hands, my mouth off Sophie? Hell no.

When her lips yield to mine, the world falls away. I groan, tilt my head, and go deeper, luxuriating in the feel of her mouth and the taste of her tongue on mine.

I kiss her until I run out of air. And even then it is a struggle to stop.

She utters a happy sigh, her lips returning to mine again and again.

Behind us, someone gives a wolf whistle. I’m guessing it’s Rye by the sound of it. He can sod off.

I end the kiss with one last nibble on her lower lip. “Consider yourself outed,” I whisper against her mouth.

She smiles, her brown eyes dazed. “Wow, you really go all in.”

“For you? Yes.”

She grins. “As long as you’re okay, I’m okay.”

I’m dizzy again, sweating a bit. I need a strong pot of tea and a good breakfast. But Sophie’s needs come first. I give her a reassuring peck on her nose. “Don’t worry, chatty girl. All is well now.”

I take two steps. The world goes black.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Sophie

 

* * *

 

“I do not need to be here,” Gabriel announces. “Get this IV out of my arm.”

Gabriel Scott: worst patient ever. I should have expected as much.

Brenna apparently thinks the same. “Shut up and take your medicine, Colossus.”

He narrows his eyes in warning. “Colossus?”