Lifting his hands to her face, he brought her mouth to his. A soft breath escaped her as his lips claimed hers. Shuddering desperation overtook him, heating his blood to the boiling point. She tasted so f**king good. Everywhere.

Her hands slid under his shirt, nails scratching lightly as she lifted it and urged his arms upward so she could remove it. He returned the favor, fitting her naked skin to his, then worked on removing her bra.

“I want you to do all the things you promised last night,” she whispered as it fluttered to the floor at their feet.

“Ah. Hmm… What did I promise again?”

“All kinds of awesome stuff.”

“Yeah? Can you remind me?” He grinned. He knew damn well what he’d promised, mainly because he’d been thinking about it all day.

She gave his bottom lip a flick with her tongue, then sucked it gently. Fuck, yes. He’d been semi-hard thinking about doing that very thing to her clit, imagining her reaction, that sound she made. Now, with her demonstration and the reality of it imminent, he was already straining his fly.

“I think I might know what you’re talking about,” he murmured when she gave him back control of his bottom lip. “What else?”

Her warm palms came to his face, holding him in place as the tip of her sweet tongue slipped past his lips, then slowly pulled back. Then slipped deeper… Just as he was about to lose it and suck it hard into his mouth, she pulled it back again. “Fuck,” he breathed.

“Ian…” She leaned down and kissed his bare chest, trailing her tongue along some of his ink lines. Her hand drifted lower, cupping his erection, rubbing it through his jeans. The friction coupled with the warm sweeps of her tongue had him tilting his head back and groaning. Her fingers fiddled with his belt, the metal tinkling as she undid it. Then his button…his zipper…and oh, holy shit, his c**k was free and in her hands. She stroked with just the right amount of pressure, enough to entice but not enough to take him too close to the edge.

“You’re gorgeous,” she murmured, the heavy silk of her hair sliding against his chest as she looked down at him. She was gorgeous. He burned with the need to show her how much. Pulling her upright, he slid down on his knees, kissing her breast until he reached her nipple and sucked it gently. While he distracted her there, he peeled her yoga pants from her body, leaving her in her silky purple panties. Her fingers curled around his neck, stroking, raising chills along his spine.

God, that her touch alone could have such an effect on him… His breath rasped through his lungs. His pulse throbbed—he could feel it everywhere. Gabby’s scent could make him drunk all by itself, but when coupled with her smooth body beneath his fingers, his mouth… He could OD on her.

He hooked his fingers in her panties and pulled them down. She stepped out of them, gloriously naked in front of him. He took in the slender curves of her body, the sexy dip of her navel. With one fingertip, he traced a line from between her br**sts, down her stomach, to the neat, thin strip of hair between her legs.

And she trembled. Beautiful, confident Gabriella Ross shivered before him—whether from nerves or lust, he didn’t know. Didn’t care. All he knew was that she was a gift, maybe some divine or karmic reward for surviving some of the bullshit he’d been through, and he would treasure her.

Wetness greeted his finger when he pushed into her cleft. So slick, so soft. He quested deeper and she spread her legs wider to give him better access. Leaning forward, he swept his tongue over her little bud.

“Oh!” she cried, and her knees nearly buckled at the touch. Was she so close already? He glanced behind her and gave her a nudge backwards.

“Sit down, baby.”

Right behind her was an armchair; she settled in it, and he promptly spread her legs so that each one draped over an arm of the chair. She gasped, and the way her hand drifted toward the junction of her thighs, he thought she was going to cover herself.

“Okay?” he whispered, placing a kiss on her knee.

She nodded quickly, and he smiled.

“Beautiful.”

Her green eyes lit up. He leaned in and tasted her, groaning as her flavor hit his tongue. How he’d missed it. And she was leaving him? He was letting her?

The thought unleashed aggression he hadn’t expected. Holding her thighs open, he sucked her long and deep as she gasped and squirmed and thrust at him. He kept the control. He kissed and licked her in just the way he knew wouldn’t make her come. It was a need he seemed to have… She liked control everywhere else; he wanted it here. They could make it work. As she shuddered and came in his mouth, her cries reaching a pitch that probably woke his neighbors, he had the thought that he would gladly do this every night for her.

“God, oh God…” she groaned, melting back into the chair. Her tongue swept across her cherry lips; her own fingers were sunk in her dark hair. He thought it all the time, yes, but she was absolutely the most beautiful f**king thing he’d ever seen. All smooth, taut, olive skin. Flawless. Too damn perfect, the way she gave herself to him.

And he couldn’t wait to have her. Quickly reaching back for his wallet, he grabbed the condom out and sheathed himself. Remembering his promise, he teased her as he entered her body. Slowly, so slowly, feeling, watching her pu**y stretch around his straining cock, so big inside her narrow channel. Her head tossed, and she practically purred in bliss. He bit down on the inside of his cheek with the effort to keep from giving it to her hard and fast. That wasn’t what she’d asked for.

So much for his having control.

That was all right. As long as her face looked like it did right now, slack with pleasure, he was doing what needed to be done. When she’d taken all he had to give her, he pulled back, retreating from her gripping wet heat, watching her mouth fall open and feeling warning signals race up his spine. Too much of this and he was gonna blow.

She cried out his name as he left her. Empty air swirled around his dick, and he ached to reclaim her warmth, but he made her wait. Her wild eyes locked on his, and she pleaded with him. Nope. Not yet. He palmed her br**sts, concerned himself with teasing her ni**les into hard little peaks. Once they were erect to his satisfaction, he gave her another slow thrust. Inch by inch, as he’d promised.

She wasn’t having it. “Oh, f**k this!” she cried, flinging her arms around his neck and pushing her body onto his. He had to laugh as her mouth crushed down on his, and she threw her weight forward so that he fell back on the floor with her atop him.

There, she pinned his wrists to the floor and rode him with a pace that left him momentarily stunned. She took what she needed from his body now, and he f**king loved it. He could have easily broken her grip and taken over, but he let her have her way. It was a beautiful sight, her hair wild, flushed skin. Her tight pu**y milked him until no amount of praying or thinking of other things or mentally reciting the Rangers lineup was gonna help him. He came, and thank God she did too, because he was lost. Nothing left.

The woman was going to kill him. And he’d die happy.

Light filtered in from the single window in his bedroom. It was enough for him to see her lovely naked body stretched out on his bed. She lay on her stomach, and he couldn’t stop touching her. They hadn’t been here long, but it had been long enough for him to figure out that whatever was bothering her hadn’t been eased by their wild ride earlier. In fact, if anything, she seemed even more down, more tense.