He kisses like it’s his damn job.

His hands skim down my sides as he slides my dress down until it’s magically pooled at my feet, and I’m standing before him in a black strapless bra and black thong.

“Fuck, Kate.”

“Yes, fuck Kate,” I agree with a grin, but when his eyes find mine, they aren’t laughing. “What is it?”

He shakes his head and kisses me again, and his hand dives under the scrap of lace to cup my pussy in his hand.

“This?” He pushes two fingers inside me, and I’m so wet they glide in effortlessly. “This is mine, Kate. Do you understand?”

I nod and bite his lip, and cry out when he presses the flat of his palm against my clit and makes me come, right here, this fast, against the wall. His whiskey eyes are watching as I cry out.

“That’s right, cher. Mine.” He pulls his hand out, lifts me, and carries me up the stairs to the bedroom. Before I know what’s happening, he’s discarded my underwear, stripped out of his own clothes, and joins me on the bed.

Just when I think he’s going to spread my legs and slide inside, he flips me over, presses my legs together, straddles them and slides his cock inside me, with my thighs pressed together and my ass just barely in the air.

And, holy hell if it’s not the best thing ever.

Like, ever.

“Oh, my God,” I groan. I can’t move much with him pressing me into the mattress, holding me down with his body, and in this position, his cock feels even bigger, and hits that amazing spot every single damn time he pushes inside me.

“What are you feeling?” he asks, out of breath.

“You,” I reply.

“More.”

“I can feel the head of your cock pushing on my spot. I can feel your hands on my hips, holding me down. Your legs on my thighs. Oh, yeah, right there.”

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and slides his hand up my spine and into my hair, then grips my hair at the scalp, so there’s no slack, and pulls.

Hard.

“Shit, yes,” I moan.

“You like to have your hair pulled, Kate?”

“I guess so.”

“You guess?”

“This is new.”

“No one’s ever pulled your hair?”

“Not like this.”

He chuckles and pulls just a touch harder and begins to seriously fuck me. Hard. His hips slap against my ass, and I feel the most amazing orgasm working its way through me.

“Eli!”

“Say it again.”

“Eli. I’m gonna come.”

“Come, baby.” He releases my hair, leans over and bites my neck, near my shoulder, and that’s it. It’s over. I come hard and long, clenching him tightly and crying out.

“Fuck,” he growls and follows me, grinding into me as he comes, then collapses next to me. “Mine.”

Chapter Seventeen

“Good morning,” he whispers in my ear. I’m on my stomach, my arms under my pillow. I can feel him against my side, rubbing my bare back with the flat of his hand, kissing my cheek, and I want to just stay, right here, forever.

“Mm,” I reply.

“Open your eyes,” he says. I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Mm mm,” I reply and frown, making him chuckle.

“For me?” He kisses my cheek again and cups my ass in his hand, then drags that amazing hand back up my spine and brushes my hair off my back, so he can kiss my neck and shoulder.

I’m awake.

“Your skin is so soft,” he murmurs, dragging his lips across my shoulder. “I love your freckles.”

“My mother calls them angel kisses. Every time an angel kissed me in heaven before I came to her, I got a freckle.” I smile and suddenly miss my ma. I manage to get one eye open and smile at a rumpled Eli lying next to me, his head braced in his hand as his fingers travel over my skin. He’s smiling softly at me.

“Good morning,” he says.

“Good morning,” I reply. “What time is it?”

“Don’t worry about it.” He kisses my cheek again, and I close my eye. I feel him move around, and then hear the shutter on his phone.

“Did you seriously just take a picture of me?” I ask, and open my eye again to glare at him.

“I did,” he replies. “You look beautiful in the morning.”

He’s such a damn charmer.

I quickly pull his phone from his fingers and turn over, scoot up against him, and hold the phone out to take a selfie of the two of us.

“Morning selfie,” I announce, and we both smile at the phone. I snap the picture, but before I lower it, he kisses my cheek, so I snap that too.

“Keep the phone up,” he whispers, and turns my face to his, kissing my lips.

I snap that one as well.

“Kissing selfies,” I whisper and he kisses my nose. “You’re sweet in the morning.” I set his phone aside and turn to snuggle in his arms, press my face against his solid, muscular chest, and take a long, deep breath when he closes his arms around me and holds me close.

“I’m not sweet, cher.”

“Mmm hmm,” I reply and rub my nose against him. “Sure you’re not. You smell good.”

He chuckles and kisses my head.

“Your hair smells good.”

“It’s the new shampoo I bought downstairs,” I reply.

“I like it.”

I sigh and could definitely fall back to sleep right here, in Eli’s arms, but I have a feeling we need to get up and out the door to work.

“Seriously, what time is it?”

“After seven,” he replies.

“What?” I pull back and try to get out of bed, but he tugs me effortlessly back into his arms. “Eli, we have to get up.”

“Five more minutes.”

“I don’t have five minutes to give you.”

“Yes, you do.” He hugs me again, rubs his hands down my back and kisses my forehead. “Let me just enjoy having you in my arms for five more minutes.”

“Well, it does feel good,” I concede, and snuggle against him.

“Nothing feels this good,” he whispers, making me grin. I don’t care what he says, in these quiet moments, he’s very sweet.

If I’m not careful, I could tumble right over into love with him.

It’s a good thing I’m the very definition of careful.

“Eli?”

“Hmm.”

“I don’t want to, but I have to get up.”

“I know.” He sighs and loosens his grip on me. “Thanks for the extra five minutes.”

I grin and roll away, then gasp when I see the time. “It’s almost eight!”

“Yes.”

“You said it was after seven.”

“It is.”

I glare at him, but he just stares at me with humor-filled eyes.

“Oversleeping on a Monday means the rest of the week is going to be crappy,” I announce, as I stomp into the bathroom, pull a brush through my hair, then tie it back and stare in despair at my makeup-free face in the mirror. “I don’t have time for makeup.”

“You’re beautiful without it,” Eli says calmly, as he hands me a steaming mug of coffee and kisses my cheek. “Stop freaking out.”

“I don’t want to be late,” I reply, before gratefully sipping the coffee. “Where did this coffee come from?”

“Timer on the pot,” he replies. “You’re fine, cher.” He wraps his arms around my waist and finds my gaze in the mirror as he kisses my cheek. “You didn’t sleep that late.”

I lean back against him and enjoy the feel of his chest pressed against my back for just a moment before slipping out of his arms and reaching for my makeup.

And then my phone rings.

Of course.

“Rhys is FaceTiming me at 8:00 on a Monday morning?” I ask with a frown. Eli just shrugs and saunters into his closet to dress. “Rhys, I can’t talk now.”

“Just give me ten,” he replies, and I can tell just by looking at him that something is very wrong.

“What is it?”

“You didn’t watch last night’s game?”

“No,” I reply guiltily. “Sorry.”

“I’m hurt.” The sarcasm is thick. “I thought you watched every game.”

“Right. Of course I do. What’s wrong?”

“I got hurt.” He swallows and winces as he shifts in his seat. “Tore my rotator cuff.”

“WHAT? Oh, my God, Rhys—”

“I’m fine.”

I look into his green eyes, and I know he’s lying. “No, you’re not.”