He suddenly grabs my waist and hoists me up a few inches, positioning his cock just so before lowering me. I gasp at the intrusion, my body so fucking ready yet so unprepared that I have to remember to breathe.

“Fuck me,” he mutters against my neck as he deliberately drives his cock upward and into me, my muscles expanding around him as much as they can. “So fucking good, Kayla. You feel so fucking good.”

I can’t even answer him. I’m sucked under a wave and all I can feel is him pushing, spreading inside me, taking over every thought and feeling. I’ve never felt so full, so thoroughly complete before.

Because my legs aren’t long enough to touch the floor and his thighs are so large to begin with, I can’t do much to pump myself up and down. Instead, I’m at Lachlan’s mercy, his hands holding onto my waist like I weigh nothing more than a feather. He lifts me up, just an inch, while thrusting upwards, deeper and deeper until I can’t control the sounds that are coming out of my mouth.

I’m so close to coming, and so fast, just on his cock alone, when a funny noise makes my eyes snap open.

I stare over Lachlan’s shoulder to see the pit bull on the couch, circling around and trying to get comfortable. The smaller dog is staring right at us.

“Uh,” I say, clearing my throat.

Lachlan’s breathing quickens with each pump inside me—he doesn’t seem to hear.

“The dogs,” I manage to say, pressing down on his shoulder.

He slows and looks at me, sweat on his creased brow, his eyes hooded and sex drunk. “What?”

“The dogs are staring at us,” I whisper.

He frowns then cranes his neck to look behind him. When he looks back at me, his expression is entirely quizzical. “So?”

“It’s kind of weird that they’re watching,” I tell him.

He smirks, the tip of his tongue poking out. “Really? I would have thought you were the exhibitionist type.”

“Hey, I am the exhibitionist type. I don’t mind people watching.”

His brow raises, a heated looking coming over him. “Is that so?”

“It is so,” I retort, mimicking his accent. “But it’s weird with dogs.”

“All right then,” he says. He lifts me up and off his cock and I’m immediately bereft without him inside me. I step off him and onto the floor as he gets up, towering over me, his pants falling to his ankles. “Get in the bedroom,” he commands, kicking his pants to the side.

I do what he says, walking naked and still in my high heels, across his living room.

“You’re too fucking much,” he murmurs, and when I glance coyly over my shoulder at him, he’s standing there, completely bare, in a wide-legged stance that shows off every muscle in his thighs, cock in his hands.

No, you’re too much, I think.

Once I’m in the bedroom, the small space tidy and smelling of him, I head for the bed, kicking off my shoes. But before I reach it, he’s flicking on the lights and grabbing my arm. “Hold up, love,” he says, leading me toward the floor-to-ceiling window that covers the entire wall.

He throws back the curtains and I step away from the glass instinctively. We’re not only about twenty stories high, but we have a clear view into the populated high rises across the street from us, and a peek of the lit Bay Bridge between them. We’re standing at the window, completely naked, with the lights on. Anyone can see us.

And then I realize what Lachlan is doing. Anyone can see us…

I turn around, giving him a shy smile. “Are you sure?”

He bends down and picks me up by the waist, pressing me back against the glass. I suck in my breath, shaking, immediately met with a wave of vertigo. I’m okay with heights, but it’s entirely different when a giant man is pressing you against a window pane from a very high place.

I feel like I can fall at any moment.

“I’m sure,” he says, pushing himself into me. I wrap my legs around him, extra tight. He feels like a lifeline. “I won’t see those neighbors ever again.”

Yeah, but I might, I think. Still, there’s something incredibly erotic about it all. I can’t see the people’s faces in the dark, but if they were to look up, I know what they’d see: my ass pressed against the glass, framed by a beast of a man.

I dig my heels into him, holding on tight as he slowly pushes deeper and deeper inside. My hands grab the back of his neck, feeling the strength in his straining muscles, his hot, sweaty skin. He licks up the length of my throat and moans into me as his hands cup my breasts and his cock thrusts in.

“So warm,” he whispers hoarsely. “Just like this.” He draws out slightly and drives back inside, pushing me harder against the glass. Every single nerve is a live wire singing, and my heart is beating so fast I’m afraid it might shatter me and the glass.

He comes at me again, arching his hips up, his cock so thick and rigid, filling me to the brim. I can feel his ass flex against my legs as he pounds deeper and deeper in intense, animalistic thrusts. His mouth is hungry, wanting, as it devours my neck, and I feel so wonderfully desired, taken, needed.

Lachlan is just a pure fucking machine, made to fuck, to come, to deliver me into star-bursting ecstasy. He’s merciless in his lust, and I surrender every part of me. I’ve never felt like so much of a woman before, with so much of a man.

“How do I feel?” he asks, breath ragged, before he grunts with another long, hard thrust, and I’m forced to moan in kind.

“Unbelievable,” I tell him. “I need more.”

His hand slips to my clit and he presses his thumb there, rubbing with each thrust. “And now?” He pulls his head back to stare at me, his eyes flashing with every upward pump of his cock. “How does your sweet little cunt feel now?”

Dear god. Just his words, those dirty fucking words in that rough accent from that wet full mouth, is more than I can handle. I grab him tighter as my back hits the glass again and again. Each strike brings fear of breaking through, of falling to my death, while each thrust brings me closer and closer to pure fucking bliss.

“Look at me,” he commands, voice raspy and broken. I open my eyes—I hadn’t even realized I shut them—and meet his, inches away from mine. “I could watch you come all day,” he says.

I bite my lip, swallowing a groan as his cock drives me closer to the edge. “And I could come all day, if you’re ever game for that.”

“You’re fantastic,” he murmurs, kissing me quickly, hot, wet, and sweet, his tongue teasing the seam of my mouth. “So bloody fantastic.”

Something changes in his eyes, like a switch being flipped, and they look almost menacing in their desire for me. His pace quickens, his hips like pistons, firing again and again, my whole body slamming against the glass until I’m gasping, but I don’t know if it’s from fear or from pleasure. Maybe they’re the same thing right now because being with him, having his cock barreling into me, is as scary as it is amazing. Because the feelings that he’s stirring, the threats of hedonistic pleasure, have the power to take over my life.

He’s making me crazy. I’m insane for him, every single inch, from the line between his brows to his thick length inside me, and I don’t even know who I am anymore. I’m just here, being fucked hard against a thin pane of glass, high above San Francisco, holding onto a man that will eventually have to leave.

My orgasm sneaks up on me. I feel it generate from my core, spreading outward like a supernova, gaining speed in waves and waves and waves of stardust until it lets go, thundering in aftershocks. I yell nonsense, holding him tight, breaking away from his eyes because it’s too much for me to see. I can’t even contain it. I ride it, muscles jerking, body a ragdoll gone rogue.

He comes with hoarse grunts and powerful thrusts like he’s actually going to fuck me out of the window, but it’s okay because I’m already falling and falling and falling.