He could accept that. But he wasn’t about to blow things up and risk his heart until she took her own risk. “And now? How do you feel now?”

A shudder shook through her. “I miss you. The way things were between us. When I saw you with Devon, I—” She broke off, shaking her head. “I hated it. Hated her touching you and thinking of you both together.”

Sweet victory buzzed in his veins. Her words sang in his head, making him want to roar in pleasure. He ached to yank her in his arms and claim her mouth with his. But he needed all of it.

He needed to know she was all in.

“Tell me what you want.”

She jerked back. Her tongue slipped out to wet her bottom lip. Her voice was barely a whisper. “You. I want you.”

She stared at him, pupils dilated, ragged breaths panting from her lips, and he knew this moment would be carved out in his mind—the first time he saw her face reflect her open want for him.

He muttered a curse, then leaned forward, both hands cupping her cheeks, his lips stopping an inch from hers. He waited, his gaze diving deep.

This time she reached for him, her words a sweet breath rushing over him. “Kiss me, Gabe.”

His mouth covered hers.

The searing heat of his lips reached every inch of her body and started a fire between her thighs. She surrendered to the kiss inch by inch, like a flower slowly opening to the heat of the sun, her insides trembling. His body remained on the other side of the chair; the only touch was his hands on her cheeks and his lips on hers, making the contact even more swoon-worthy, as if they’d just nudged open the door of a sizzling attraction that was ready to erupt.

He tasted of sweetness and sin. The spicy scent of his cologne teased her nostrils, and she leaned forward, wanting more. He broke away, his thumb stroking her cheek, his dark eyes searing into hers. Slowly, he pressed his lips to hers, softly, firmly, pulling back and doing it again and again, until she whispered his name and reached for him, sliding her arms around his shoulders and offering more.

He took it.

His tongue surged in and stroked hers, playing a wicked, teasing game that thrilled her. Her nails bit into his shoulders, and a moan ripped from her throat. He moved, standing up and lifting her to her feet. She arched up, and his hands cupped her buttocks, easing her close. Their mouths fused hungrily, and she became mad to drown in the taste and smell of him, the feel of his hard-muscled body against hers, nipping at her raw nerve endings. In between ragged breaths, she ripped off his jacket, pulling off his tie and tearing open his shirt with clumsy, frantic fingers. The slow dance of their mouths became primitive, as if the beast had been released, and all she could do was hang on to him and follow the path to slake the wet ache in her core.

“Wait. Are you sure?” he asked, his teeth sinking into the curve of her neck, causing her to cry out in pleasure. “We can talk.”

“Don’t want to talk.” Her tongue licked at his olive skin, savoring the taste of salt and man, her hands smoothing over his toned abs. “Want you. Now.”

He muttered a dirty curse. She thrilled at the madness of lust carved out on his face, the trembling of his hands as he tried to control himself. But she didn’t want the careful, gentle lover tonight—she wanted Gabe in all his primal glory, desperate to have her.

She reached down and squeezed his erection, reveling in the sheer power of his desperate groan. God, she’d craved this—the dirty, raw coupling with a man she hungered for, the stripping away of barriers to reveal naked flesh in all its vulnerability and beauty, a lovemaking that was on the edge of fucking and had no place in the nice, neutral world she usually lived in.

She wanted to feel beautiful. Alive.

She wanted to feel everything.

He gripped her hair and tugged back. His teeth ground together while his gaze raked over her. Slowly, he unbuttoned her blouse, tugged down her bra, and stared greedily at her naked breasts, her nipples hard and begging for his mouth. “You want rough?”

She gave him the truth. “I want real.”

His gaze softened. His grip gentled, and he gave her a kiss that brought tears to her eyes, humbling himself before her as if he were a servant to her queen, his own personal treasure. “It already is, sweetheart.”

Then he lowered his knees and lifted her up, carrying her into the bedroom and dropping her on the bed. They undressed quickly, throwing their clothes off until they were both naked. Gabe grabbed a condom from his pants and put it on the table, then climbed on the mattress. He spread her thighs and covered her, taking one tight nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking, nibbling with his teeth until she was so sensitive, she almost begged him to stop. He treated the other breast to the same attention, while her hands roved hungrily everywhere: the tight buttocks, his powerful thighs, his hair-roughened chest, the broad slope of his shoulders.

He worked his way down, teasing her, lifting her knees high and widening her thighs so she was open to him. Panting with need, her skin tight and hot, she cried out at the first slow swipe of his tongue on her center. He murmured sweet words, parting her folds, licking her until she squirmed helplessly under each hot lash, her orgasm shimmering just out of reach.

His lips closed around her clit, and he sucked, increasing the pressure as his index finger slid inside her channel, setting up a lazy rhythm meant to drive her to the brink of insanity. “So pretty,” he whispered. “So beautiful. Let go, sweetheart. Let me watch you.”

He sucked harder and slammed into a magical spot that shot her body upward. She came hard, screaming his name, and the hot streamers of pleasure shredding her kept going, her hips helplessly writhing beneath him.

When she managed to open her eyes again, he’d donned the condom. He knelt before her, hands on her calves, his eyes fierce with a masculine possessiveness that thrilled her, as if he were about to claim what was his. And then the past reared up, tangling with a raw need inside for a man she’d never expected, and she made a low noise in the back of her throat, clutching his shoulders.

He stopped, poised at her entrance. His jaw tightened, but his gaze was calm. “What is it?”

“I just—” She shook her head, searching for the words. “There hasn’t been anybody else. Since Matt.”

His touch gentled. “Do you want to stop?”

“No.” Even now, she ached for Gabe to fill the throbbing emptiness, but it was also another door shut behind her, knowing she’d be giving herself to another. Tears stung. “I feel too much,” she finally whispered, shutting her eyes.

“Look at me, Bella.” She forced herself to meet his gaze again, and in those dark eyes he gave her what she needed. “I do, too. I’ve been waiting for you. Only you.” He kissed her, slow and deep, taking her back under until her body screamed for his. “I’ll go slow.”

He eased in inch by inch, filling up all the empty spaces, until he was buried deep. She gasped at the shock of it, the totality of a man inside her again, and he pressed his forehead to hers as if he sensed her sudden hesitation, letting her get used to him. Her muscles gradually relaxed, and he slid in even deeper, wringing a groan from his lips.

“You feel so damn good,” he whispered, his tongue slipping between his lips to tangle with hers. “I don’t know if I can last.”

She smiled, nipping at his plump bottom lip. “Don’t know if I can, either.”

“Good. I’ll make it up to you later.”

He swallowed her laugh with his lips, slid out, and then plunged inside her with one full thrust.

“Oh God.”

He gritted his teeth. Sweat beaded his brow. The need uncurled inside, hot and hungry, and she wriggled to get closer.

“Give me a minute, baby. Trying to slow down.”

“Don’t.” She arched her hips, forcing him deeper, and he muttered a curse. “No more slow.” She wanted him wild, wanted him to take her over the edge so she could lose herself in pleasure.

He gave a half laugh. “Sure?”

“Now, Gabe.”

He grabbed her arms, stretching them over her head and guiding her hands to the headboard. “Then hang on.”

The thrill zinged through her, and dampness leaked down her thigh. She arched up with each rough thrust inside, meeting him equally, squeezing the polished wood between her fists as she struggled to keep the orgasm at bay. His rough thighs scraped her smooth ones. His hard chest teased her sensitive nipples. His hips snapped, his dick sliding across her clit with the perfect friction, bringing her closer, closer, until—

The orgasm shattered her inside and out, flinging her to a place where nothing mattered but pleasure. She heard a dim shout, and his body stiffened, but she was lost in her own sensual haze, every inch throbbing with sweet release.

He grabbed her hips and rolled so he wasn’t crushing her with his weight. His skin was damp. The sheets smelled like spice and sex. Her muscles felt sore and used, and she savored the delicious feeling.

He kissed her cheek and pushed her tangled hair back, staring into her face. “You okay?”

She practically beamed with satisfaction and a slow, unfurling joy. “Yeah. You?”

He laughed, tucking her in close. “Yes. But I need to sleep. I’m not even close to being done with you.”