The room spins, and then I’m in Dex’s bed, straddling his thick thighs as he leans against the headboard. As if being in the bed somehow grounds him, he slows us down, caressing my shoulders, murmuring a sound of contentment.

“I love the way you kiss me,” I say against Dex’s lips. We exchange air, a gusty sigh, and he angles his head, flicks his tongue along my upper lip.

“I love the way you taste,” he murmurs before taking a slow, languid taste of me again.

I shudder, feeling it down my spine, up my legs. “You don’t kiss like a virgin, Ethan.”

He kisses me again, a little deeper, nipping my lower lip. With a grunt, he grips my ass and tugs me closer.

“And you sure don’t act like one,” I whisper breathlessly.

“Guess I forgot to read the virgin handbook.” His voice is husky against my skin. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about what I’d do with you once I got my chance. Vivid, detailed plans, Cherry.”

His hand cups the back of my head, completely engulfing it, and he kisses his way down my neck. I shiver in response, wrapping my arms around him, pulling myself a little closer—because there’s no way I’m moving him. He’s too big.

Had I snubbed big guys before? A mistake. There’s so much to explore. My hands coast over his shoulders, the muscles there liked honed granite.

“Take this off.” I pluck at his sleeve. I want to see him, feel his hot skin.

Dex sucks a sensitive spot at the base of my throat before pulling back. He reaches behind him, grabs hold of his shirt, and tugs it over his head in one swift motion. His hair flows wild around his face as he sits back and looks at me with eyes like smoke-quartz in the lamplight.

“Sweet hot peppers,” I say on a gasp.

He grins, even teeth flashing white in the frame of his dark beard. “Never heard that one before.”

I can’t even answer. I’m too busy just looking. Because Ethan Dexter without a shirt on is breathtaking. I knew he was built—kind of hard to hide that. But seeing him in the flesh is so much more.

There is nothing lean or sinewy about him. He’s simply solid, defined bulk. A body designed to take a hard impact and not cave. To endure. Broad shoulders like mini boulders, pecs as big as dinner plates. His abdomen is a veritable slab, a wispy little happy trail of golden brown hair starting a few inches below his navel.

Tattoo sleeves run from his wrists to the caps of his shoulders. Elegant script the width of my palm spans his collarbones.

“‘Here be dragons,’” I read out loud. “Are you the dragon?”

The corner of his mouth quirks. His hands rest on my hips, holding on with just enough tension to tell me he isn’t quite comfortable with the inspection but is letting me look anyway.

“Map makers used to put the saying along the borders, for places where they hadn’t yet charted. It’s in reference to the unknown, to be mindful of the unexplored.”

I peer closer and see the faint latitude and longitude lines drawn beneath the words. The map stretches to his shoulders where twin sea serpents play.

I trace the words, and he shivers, his nipples drawing tight and—

“Holy hell.” His left nipple is pierced. “I did not expect that.”

The tops of his cheeks pink. “I…ah…have sensitive skin. Tattoos, piercing—getting them hurts like a motherfucker. But pain helps me focus when I get too…” His color grows deeper.

“Horny?” I supply, my finger running gently over his skin, because I can’t stop touching him.

“Yeah.”

“Got a lot of tattoos, Ethan.”

His eyes burn into mine. “Yeah.”

It’s almost too much, thinking about all that suppressed lust and need, and how it’s now focused on me. I touch the small silver barbell. Dex grunts, his hips shifting against mine. He gazes at me though lowered lids, his lips parted.

“You like that?” I whisper, doing it again, tweaking a bit.

His fingers clench my thighs, the thick erection in his jeans rocking me forward. I brace my hands on his shoulders, caress his smooth skin.

“Have you any idea how fucking hot you are?” I press a soft, lingering kiss on the hollow of his throat.

He swallows hard. “Whatever you say now, I’ll believe.”

Humming in response, I kiss him again, between his pecs, moving down to that tempting little nipple.

A groan tears from him as I suck the hard, cool barbell into my mouth, worrying the nub of his nipple with the tip of my tongue. He’s so tight his body trembles, his fingers kneading my shoulders as if he can’t decide to hold on or let go.

It spurs me on, makes me take that delicious nub between my teeth and bite, pulling at the metal.

“Oh, fuck, Cherry.” He practically bucks me off with the thrust of his hips, his back arching off the pillows. And I haven’t even gotten to his cock.

Which is all I want to do now. I smile against his skin and nibble my way down the divot that divides his abdomen.

Dex pants beneath me, and I know he’s watching. I come up on my knees, angling my body so he has a better view. My tongue flicks out, licking into his small belly button.

“You’re trying to kill me,” he rasps.

“In the best possible way.” I nuzzle his happy trail, my fingers working the fly of his jeans. They’re stretched tight over his cock, and the zipper makes a loud buzz as I force it down.

I love the way he sucks in a breath, his abs retreating as if he’s almost afraid to feel my touch, but then he cants his hips as if to say, please, please, go lower.