He stopped. Tipped her chin up. Tenderness coursed through his body, his heart, his soul. She blinked furiously, her face a picture of confusion and sadness and longing. “I bet your mom and brother look over you every day, so damn proud of who you’ve become. Others would have sunk and given up. Whined and bitched and given excuses. You’re a hell of a woman, Riley Fox. A hell of a daughter. And a hell of a sister.”

She nodded. Accepting his comfort. Listening to the words and taking them deep to find a place where they could fit. He broke then, needing to touch her, protect her, make her happy.

The kiss was pure giving and comfort, but she turned it fast, grabbing on to him as if needing more. Dylan groaned and held her tight, his tongue plunging into her mouth and savoring her taste. The spark caught and exploded. He pushed her against the railing, ripping at the bulky clothes loaded with zippers and buttons, desperate to hit skin and give her the connection they both needed. She whimpered, and he swallowed it whole, managing to get the jacket open, sweater hiked up, and his fingers down her pants.

Holy crap, she was dripping wet and hot as his fingers hooked under the panties and sunk deep into her pussy. She bit down hard on his lower lip, but he didn’t break contact, moving his fingers and dragging them across her clit, pushing her higher even as she bucked and bit and moaned underneath him.

“Give it to me, Riley. Now. Give it all to me,” he demanded, twisting his fingers and slamming deep against her G-spot. And then she was coming, flooding his hand, while his mouth crushed her screams, never releasing the pressure they both craved. He kept his fingers inside her for a while, kissing away the one tear skidding down her cheek, murmuring inane nonsense in her ear while she settled. He kissed her, held her, and she relaxed completely in his arms.

“I need you,” he said. “In my bed. Naked. Open.”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I need that, too.”

Dylan tried not to shake as he fixed her clothes, took her hand, and led her out of the rink.

He moved over her, surged inside, and began the rhythm to break her apart so he could put her back together. Riley lived her life on her terms, but tonight there was nothing she couldn’t give him. A distant fantasy and memory of a man whose image never left her now claimed her completely. She knew it wasn’t real. Couldn’t be. But for these last few hours, Riley didn’t care.

She opened herself wide and met each thrust. Her lips opened to his tongue, her nails scraped down the muscled ridge of his back, drawing blood, making her own mark so tonight could be remembered. When her climax came, he commanded her to open her eyes. He was witness to it all—both brutal pleasure and the completion of the fall she’d started ten years ago at the first touch of his lips on hers.

She fell in love with Dylan McCray. Owned it. Relished it. Reveled in it.

She called his name over and over while her heart screamed out the words she refused to utter.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

The mingling scent of sex and musk and sweat rose to his nostrils in the sweetest perfume in the world. Dylan stroked her shoulder as she rested, staring at the woman naked in his arms, in his bed. How many times had he wondered what it would be like if they met again, yet recognizing they may never be able to transition the connection between them into the real world.

When he joined Kinnections, he’d been so hopeful. He was ready to settle down and find his forever. The team was incredible, noting every one of his points, and even digging under the surface until they found needs he didn’t realize he had. Most of his dates impressed him. Made him laugh. Engaged him in stimulating conversation. Many even caused a physical reaction that would’ve led directly to sex, or at least a lot of foreplay.

Usually after the first date, he realized the truth.

None of the women were meant for him.

Frustration beat in his blood, and he had trouble convincing Kate he wasn’t screwing around, wasting their time. How do you explain the search for something that many didn’t believe existed? The magic of a connection, a deeper knowledge you met the one meant for only you? Especially coming from a male, he’d be laughed out of Kinnections and by anyone who heard the ridiculous story. So, he made half-assed excuses and kept his mouth shut.

About a year ago, Dylan began to believe that kind of relationship didn’t exist. The depression he felt realizing he’d have to settle haunted him, but he promised to give the search a bit more time before he accepted the fact he’d never have what his parents have. How could he even understand what he was looking for when he’d never experienced it personally?

Tonight, the shattering conclusion of his journey shocked him to his core. Riley Fox was the one. The one he’d been searching for. The moment he buried himself deep into her body, clasped her hands, looked into her eyes, a low hum vibrated in his gut and spread throughout every inch of him, refusing to be denied.

It was as if he’d found his other half. His mind settled, his heart ripped open, and he gave himself to her with each stroke, binding her body to his in the most primeval way possible for a man to claim his mate. He craved to protect her, push her, fuck her, comfort her.

Love her.

Holy shit.

“You okay?”

He blinked as the sound of her voice broke his short-term panic attack. No way could he tell her that. Not so soon, after a few hours in her company. Somehow, knowing Riley’s sense of control and order, he figured his big news would have her launching herself naked out the window into a pile of snow.

He’d need to ease her into the same realization. Failure wasn’t an option, because this time Dylan wasn’t letting her go.

He pushed the hair out of her eyes and tucked it gently behind her ear. Her skin glowed, her lips were slightly bruised, and her eyes shone like a woman who was well satisfied. Dylan fought the urge to beat on his chest like a primate. “I’m better than okay.” He propped an elbow on the pillow and leaned his head on his palm, studying her. “How’s your head?”

She gave a low chuckle and stretched her leg. “Not my head I’m worried about right now. Other parts are taking up my attention.”

“Just what I like to hear,” he growled. “Can I tell you the fantasy wasn’t half as good as the reality? And trust me, I can spin a very dirty fantasy.”

“I bet you can.” She smiled, her face open and relaxed as she gazed at him. “I never knew it could—it could be like that.”

He pressed a thumb against her bottom lip, dragging it over the tender flesh. “Me, either.”

She wasn’t ready to hear the words, but he could show her in other ways.

Dylan spent the rest of the night showing her over and over again.

Riley opened her eyes.

The bedroom was half lit, a lazy breaking sun shining through the windows. Her muscles ached like a bitch, she was sore between her thighs, and she smelled of sex.

She couldn’t remember a time when she felt this satisfied.

The deep rumble of a snore drifted to her ears. She turned her head and studied the angelic profile of his face. God, he was perfection. A blinding beauty mixed with the carnality of a sexual animal. Waves of white-blond hair fell over his forehead, and a rough stubble coated his jaw. The lean muscles of his face were relaxed in sleep, gentling the curves to blend in fluid symmetry. The sheet was tangled around his hips, baring his impressive back to her gaze, making her fingers itch to touch him, though she hadn’t had her hands off of him for over twelve hours.

What was she going to do?