Except, in the end, a voice in the back of her mind whispered no.

Forget the fear of physical pain.

Her heart clenched just looking at him. The sharp corners of the jaw that had drawn her in in the first place, and then the things she’d come to love about him since then. The wavy, dark strands of his hair and how they stood up on end once she’d had her hands in them. The subtle cleft of his chin.

The depths behind the piercing blue of his eyes.

He was beautiful and wounded, kind and gentle and so guarded that when he let her see even a fraction of himself, it took her breath away. Already, she felt too much. If she let him inside of her, if he made it as good as he had promised to . . .

Her ribs squeezed so tightly it ached.

If she let this happen between them, how would she ever stop herself from loving him?

The answer pulsed its way through her chest: She couldn’t.

She couldn’t go through with this.

He must have seen her decision slide across her face, because the questions around his eyes smoothed away. He pulled her down for another kiss. “It’s fine.” The words washed warm against her lips. He grinned. “I may die a little, but it’s fine.”

And she couldn’t help it. She laughed. “I wouldn’t want that.”

“A little death never hurt anybody.”

She chuckled at the pun, unsure if it had been intentional or not, but then it didn’t matter anymore, because his mouth was warm and soft, the kisses tasting of heat, and of a fire barely banked. His hands traversed her spine and sides, slowly coming to rest on her hips. A shiver moved through her. Her body hummed with satisfaction, but want still pulsed through her veins.

She wanted to give him something.

With her eyes closed, she parted from his mouth to kiss down the line of his throat, rasping her teeth against the stubble on his jaw. It was rough, his skin salty and male, and the little spot of boldness in her grew.

“Kate . . .” He threaded his fingers through her hair, neither pushing her up nor down so much as holding on.

There was something more than want or need or even boldness going on here. Something like power.

Her reservations slid away as she undid one button of his shirt and then the next. There was still the cotton layer of his undershirt beneath it, but she kissed her way along the center of his chest regardless. When she reached the bottom of his rib cage, she shoved the fabric up. His abdomen was firm and smooth. She nosed the lines of muscle, flicked out the tip of her tongue to taste the flesh beside his navel.

With a deep breath, she pushed aside the open denim of his jeans.

His fingers tightened against her scalp. “You don’t have to.”

She looked up the length of his body, and God, his eyes. The sensation of power in her hands swelled. “Do you want me to?”

He threw his head back, exposing the line of his throat, huffing out a sigh of laughter that sounded pained. “Fuck. More than anything.” He looked at her again, lifting his other hand to draw a fingertip along the edges of her lips. “Your mouth would look so good around my cock.”

Her heart felt like it skipped a beat, and even sated as she was, her sex throbbed. She lowered her head, resting her brow against his hip.

Then, before she could stop herself, she tugged the waistband of his boxers down.

She’d seen him before. Touched him and let him come against her, but being so close was another thing entirely. He smelled like sex, and he felt like silk beneath her fingertips, searing hot and wet at the tip. When she skimmed her thumb down the length of him, the foreskin shifted, uncovering more of the dusky flesh beneath.

Sated as she was, a tickle of arousal moved through her, and she was tempted to dive right in. To find out what noises he made when she was the one bringing him to the edge. But he’d been so patient with her, had taken the time to find out exactly what drove her mad.

She barely recognized her own voice, deepened by lust, as she asked, “What about you? What do you like?”

“Your hands on me.” His breath cut off when she curled her fingers around his base. “Fuck.” As she took a slow stroke up the shaft, his eyes slipped closed, his head tipping back. “Everything you’re doing feels good.”

He looked amazing like this, the tendons in his neck straining, abdominals tensing.

Heat spread through her. And suddenly she got it. Why he looked at her the way he did, why he seemed so desperate to touch her and make her come.

A hot spark of understanding lighting off inside her, she tightened her grip, and fluid beaded up at his tip.

“Everything you’re doing feels really good,” he revised, biting back a groan.

Triumph echoed behind her ribs, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted more.

She let him go, drifting a hand over his thigh. She felt too hot all over, while at the same time prickles of cold dotted her skin.

She dropped off the bed and sank to her knees between his legs.

His moan was loud this time as she took him in the circle of her fist. “Whatever you want to do,” he said, sounding earnest, and like it was killing him not to tug her down and guide himself between her lips.

So she turned it on him. “What do you want me to do?”

He cursed aloud, fisting his hands into the bedspread beneath him. “I wanna fuck your mouth.”

Lightning blazed through her abdomen and up her ribs. How would that feel? Part of her remembered exactly how it felt to be used that way, but this was different. Rylan was different.

Rylan would make sure it was good.

Still, she shook her head. “What do you want me to do?”

“Lick it.” There was no hesitation. “Right at the head—yeah.” A noise punched from his lungs when she did just that. “Fuck, that’s perfect. Get your tongue all over me. Nice and wet.”

He tasted like salt, marred by a hint of bitterness, but the warm feeling in her sex and in her chest more than made up for it. He put one hand on her shoulder, light and stabilizing. Just heavy enough to ground her to the earth.

His thumb stroked over her collarbone. “Now open up. Let it slide inside. That’s it. Oh.”

She knew this part. But it had never felt so good to her before. The way his hips flexed and the noises he made all fed the fire deep inside. Taking a deep breath, she wrapped her lips around the solid flesh, taking him in.

“Jesus. Looks better than I thought it would.” His other hand came up, fingertips soft against her lips where they were stretched around him. He stuttered out a long breath as she took him farther. “Fuck looking good. You feel . . . oh shit . . . wet and warm . . .”

She remembered this—the weird shame of his praise and how it turned her on in spite of herself. She squirmed, pressing her thighs together.

“You like sucking me?” he asked.

Desire burned through her as she popped off long enough to nod.

His fingers tightened on her shoulder. “So good . . .”

He trailed off, letting silence fill in around them, pierced only by the soft, slick sounds of her mouth on his flesh. By his breathing and by how much she liked this. How much she loved it.

“Move your hand,” he urged.

And she loved that even more. The motion was easy, a wet glide as she followed her mouth with the tight curl of her hand, up and down. His hips rocked up into it, not enough to choke her. She followed his pace, and she was lost in it. Wanted so much for him to—

“Baby—” he started. The muscles of his legs were coiled, his abdomen tight, and the way he sounded . . . “I’m gonna—” His fingers threaded through her hair, a light tug of warning as his voice cut off, the desperation in it making her burn.

She stayed right on him. Let the first hot pulses coat her tongue, swallowing what she could. When he twitched and pushed her off, she swiped her wrist across her mouth and he growled.