He grabbed her hips as his body surged against hers. He was hard enough to burst, desperate to possess. He shoved his hands beneath the folds of her skirt and along her thighs until he found the elastic of her thong, and ripped it off her. She tore at his pants the way she’d gone at his shirt, and when they were both naked, he pinned her to the bed and took her mouth again. The kiss was primitive. Insatiable. Not just for him, but for both of them. And though he already knew he’d never have enough of her, never be able to get his fill, all the weeks of waiting had made him greedy for more than just a taste.

Tonight he needed absolutely everything, wouldn’t stop until he’d kissed her everywhere.

His face at her apex, he breathed in the heady scent of her arousal. He tested her with the tip of his tongue, finding her sweetness, then slid off the bed to his knees in front of her, and nuzzled her. “You’re so pretty down here too. Everywhere.” He took his first erotic taste, delving with his tongue.

“Oh.” It was a gasp. “Oh, God.”

She clung to his shoulders, her fingernails pricking his flesh, and it was so damned good. She was like a sweet wine whose grapes had stayed on the vine until they exploded with flavor. Her hot little sounds—a cry, a moan, a hoarse groan—drove him deeper. Flicking his tongue over her, he had to have more of her, had to slide one finger inside.

“Please, please, please,” she begged.

She quivered and quaked, and he forced her higher. There was only one thing he wanted, needed, and craved in this moment—her sweet release against his tongue.

Her breath hitched, her fingers tangled in his hair, pulled at the roots, until her body clenched around his fingers, released, tightened again. Then she cried out, shaking as she rode out her pleasure.

He didn’t let her senses quiet. Instead he moved back over her so that his chest was flush with hers. “Can you feel how much I want you?” he said against her throat, layering her skin with kisses, licks, little bites as she wrapped her fingers around his erection.

She finally opened her eyes and, instead of answering his question, said, “You should have done that to me weeks ago.”

He laughed—she would always be able to make him laugh, even when they were making love—and he swelled even bigger in her hand. “I should have done this to you the very first day.” He nudged her legs apart and rolled between them. “Taken you in the sunlight.” Her fingers tightened around him, stroking him, and he shuddered, pushing hard into her palm. “No, on your workbench. The first time I had my hands on you.” The first time he’d made her tremble. The first time he’d felt her come and fantasized about how much more she had to give—and how he wanted every last ounce of her pleasure to be his.

“All those times I could have had you.” She pushed her head back, closed her eyes, smiled in bliss. Then she cupped the base of his manhood, squeezed with an ideal touch until he thought he’d lose it all right then. “All those times we could have had each other.”

“Inside you,” he managed. “I need inside.”

He’d never been crazy or out of control before. Not until Charlie became a recklessness in his blood. He rolled, opened the side table drawer, and withdrew a foil packet. She took it from him, leaving his hands free to run over her gorgeous curves until she straddled his legs, ripped the packet, and took him in her hand.

“So beautiful,” she whispered, leaning close as if she were speaking only to that part of him. “So thick. And hard.” She swiped her tongue over the crest, and a tremor surged through him. “You taste so good.”

And then—finally—she slid down to take him inside.

The feel of her around him, over him, sent him to a place beyond words. He could only groan, arch his head into the mattress, and grab the pillow between his hands, squeezing tight, fingers aching with the effort to stave off his climax.

“Take me, Charlie. Take all of me.” It was part plea, part wild, reckless need that wouldn’t wait for anything. Not one more second.

She enveloped him even deeper with her body, sliding only so far before rising again, squeezing him tight inside her as he held her hips, played her flesh, testing the suppleness of her skin. Desperate for as much of her as he could get, he took her sweet, succulent nipple in his mouth. She let out a breath laced with a little hum of pleasure and took him deeper. But it wasn’t far enough. Wasn’t anywhere near enough.

He wanted to fill her all the way to her heart, giving over everything that was in him. “More.” He rolled, pinning her body beneath him. “I need all of you.”

And when she echoed more against his lips, he thrust home, high and deep inside her. His muscles bunched and flexed against hers, their bodies pressed tightly together as though they were welded into one part. One body. One soul. His hands gripping her hips tightly, he rocked with her, taking her higher and higher as he moved deeper. Faster. Harder.

He lifted his head from the crook of her neck. “Kiss me, Charlie. I need you.”

Their lips melded, their tongues twined, and their bodies shuddered as their worlds crashed. They rode the tsunami together as she cried his name against his mouth and endless waves of pleasure rolled through them both, head to toe.

She was what he’d been searching for without even knowing it. And now he knew that no matter what happened between them in the future, even if things somehow turned toxic, he would never be able to walk away from her. Because she was his. And he was hers. Forever.

When it came to Charlie Ballard, Sebastian knew to expect the unexpected. Even the most unexpected thing of all: Falling head over heels in love.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Take all of me.

As Charlie wrapped herself around Sebastian, it felt like so much more than the simple act of two bodies coming together. It felt like his soul speaking to hers.

It felt like a promise.

All she’d ever had before was the physical side. Never a connection like this. Never such bliss. Never pure, sweet heaven.

After the last tremors subsided, he’d left her just long enough to dispose of the protection, then returned to pull the covers over them. They’d lain bonelessly in each other’s arms for several long minutes. She loved the feeling of being cocooned with him. So safe. So warm. So full of lingering pleasure.

“Mmm.” She wasn’t ready to speak yet, but she needed to make at least a small sound to let him know how divine making love with him had been.

He stroked his hand over her bare skin, and she shivered with pleasure at how good it felt. “Now that was worth waiting for.” He might have sounded cocky—and she knew he could be darned cocky when he wanted to be—but his voice was soft, reverent.

“More than worth it,” she agreed, loving the feel of his strong and steady heartbeat beneath her palm. She wanted to snuggle up to him, sleep in his arms, then make love with him again in the deepest, darkest hours of the night.

She would have done all that if the sound of the doorbell hadn’t pealed through the penthouse. “Who could that be at this hour?” she grumbled, her delicious dream going down the tubes.

“I’ll get it.” He kissed her forehead before he got out of bed, and she pulled the covers over her head, but he peeled a corner back a minute later to let her know¸ “Walter sent us a little gift.”

She wrapped herself in the thick terrycloth robe the hotel had provided and followed him out to the sitting room. In front of the sofa, on a trolley draped elegantly with a gold cloth, sat a champagne bucket, two flutes, and a plate of chocolate-covered strawberries the size of plums. “Walter is so sweet. He didn’t have to do this.” Her mouth watered not only for the chocolate, but for Sebastian, his legs bare beneath his own matching robe, the sleeves rolled up to showcase his muscled forearms.