“Don’t,” Travis whispered, his pressure on her thighs warm and firm, stopping her from closing them. “You’re fucking gorgeous. Let me look at you.” And then he reached out and ran his index finger—slowly, tormentingly—over her slit. She couldn’t help herself; she thrust up into his hand, desperate to have his fingers inside her. And he obliged, fucking her with his fingers, first one and then another.

“Oh,” she moaned, her arms outstretched and her hands gripping the sheets as he so easily found her clit, rubbing over it with just the perfect amount of pressure.

“That’s the way, baby. You’re so wet, so ready for me, so hot.”

The pleasure rose within her, Travis’s words and his touch more arousing, more erotic, than anything she’d experienced with Saxon or anyone before. Just when she was approaching the edge, Travis removed his hands and she whimpered. She was about to beg for his fingers back upon her, when he put his mouth there instead.

She cried out in bliss. Her hands moved to his head, her fingers curling in his hair as his tongue delved deep inside her. Any control she had over the situation vanished as she felt Travis devouring her as if she were ice cream on a stick. A few deft strokes of his talented tongue and she was a panting mess. As if sensing she was close, he added his finger to the mix again, pushing it deep inside and touching it to the most sensitive spot in her body. She lost it. Her orgasm smashed over her, shattering her completely.

But he kept going, licking and sucking and stroking, and she didn’t know it was possible to feel this good, to come again and again and again in the course of a few minutes.

“Travis,” she panted. “I can’t take anymore.”

Without a word, he pulled back and she lay there on the bed, smiling like a lunatic and wondering if she’d ever recover enough to catch her breath. Vaguely she registered the crackling of plastic. And then…oh my…Travis was looming over her. She’d thought herself utterly spent, but as she gazed at his impressive erection sheathed in a condom, energy surged within her. She reached for his cock, desperate to touch him and give him even a fraction of the pleasure he’d given her, but he pushed her hand away, instead reaching for the sweater, now the only thing stopping them being skin on skin. He yanked it over her head and then rid her of her bra with an expertise that told her he had plenty of experience. She pushed that thought aside, not wanting anything to ruin this unreal experience.

His gaze swept over her body and her nipples throbbed, desperate for his attention, but instead he flipped her over, his hands on her waist as he positioned her onto all fours.

“You all right?” he asked.

“Uh-huh.” She wasn’t sure whether she managed to say those words aloud before he entered her and they both gasped. Despite his size, there was none of the pain she sometimes had during lovemaking. No awkwardness or wishing it would be over quick. She was so wet, he slid right in and then stayed there a second, before reaching around and grabbing hold of her breasts. He wasn’t gentle, but it felt fantastic, and then he finally began to thrust. Billie pushed back against him, loving the feeling of him filling her but wanting even more. Wanting everything.

As he increased his pace inside her, all the while touching and teasing her nipples, setting them on fire, she felt her body taking over. Travis moved his hands to her waist, gripping her hips firmly as he rode her even deeper. He uttered a guttural sound and she lost herself in the moment, screaming and shuddering as Travis brought them both to release, giving her an orgasm unlike any she’d ever had before.

Sure, she climaxed fine on her own, or when Saxon used his fingers, but she’d never really managed to do so during actual intercourse. She’d accepted this, thinking she was just one of those women who couldn’t come in that manner, but she’d been living a lie.

Travis Sinclair had just shown her the truth.

“Fuck me! I haven’t done that in a while,” he said, finally letting go of her hips and sliding out.

She flopped onto the bed, totally spent, only just finding the energy to turn her head and look at him. His dark skin glistened with perspiration, making his tattoos stand out more than usual. “What? Had sex?”

He chuckled. “No, had sex in a bed.”

“Where do you usually have sex?” she asked, before realizing she didn’t really want to know the answer. It wasn’t that she’d harbored any illusions of Travis being a monk, but she didn’t want to ruin the most amazing sexual experience of her life with the knowledge that it was nothing special to him.

He shrugged. “Boardroom tables, hotel room floors, elevators, showers, hot tubs…”

“Okay, okay.” She rolled over and held up her hand; it sounded as if he could go on indefinitely, but she’d heard enough. “I get the picture.”

“Don’t get jealous, princess,” he said, reaching out and trailing his hand from the hollow of her neck down over her belly and to the now incredibly sensitive spot between her legs.

“I’m not jealous,” she scoffed, trying not to react as his fingers dipped inside. How was it even possible that she’d completely lost it less than a minute ago and already her body was gearing up to take him again?

“I think you are a little bit. I like it.” He skated his whole palm tenderly over her mound, teasing her with the lightest of touches, and then he removed his hand and scooted to the edge of the bed. She stopped herself from asking him where he was going and if he was coming back, not wanting to appear needy. She didn’t want to need anyone.

“I’m getting rid of the condom and then I’m taking a shower,” he said as he headed for her bedroom door. “You can join me if you want.”

She shouldn’t. After the way he’d just made her feel—as if she was just another one of his cheap tarts—she should roll over and try to expel him from her mind. But she wanted to. More than almost anything she’d wanted before, she wanted to trail after him down the corridor and worship him in the shower. She practically salivated thinking about what all those tattoos would look like under the hot spray of water, what their bodies would feel like slick against each other with only water and soap suds between them.

Without another thought she leaped from the bed and hurried after him, her arms and legs still shaky from the sex. He’d disposed of the condom and was reaching into the shower when she arrived. She paused at the entrance of the bathroom, stealing a moment to simply stare at his naked beauty. While she had no complaints about the sex they’d had, the position hadn’t given her the opportunity to really look at him. As an artist, or a once wannabe artist at least, she was desperate to examine his ink and his beautiful body in more detail. To trail her fingers over his muscles, admiring the detail in his tattoos, imprinting them in her mind.

He stepped into the shower and dropped his neck back as the water sluiced over him. Billie swallowed, fighting a strong impulse to run down the corridor and grab her pencils and sketch pad. Travis would make a beautiful life model, and she could just imagine him permanently hanging on her wall.

“Well, don’t just stand there,” he muttered. “Get in here and suck my cock.”

She blinked. Had she heard that correctly? Maybe he thought she owed him after the amazing things his tongue had done to her. Maybe so, but she was done with men who thought they could control her or order her around. She opened her mouth to tell him to go to hell, but found the words refused to form on her tongue. Instead, what felt like an invisible string pulled her toward him as if she’d lost all control of her body and her senses. Utterly mesmerized by his naked beauty, she found herself stepping into the shower, all but handing herself over to his whims. Despite the warm water, Billie shivered as Travis yanked the stripy multicolored curtain shut behind them.