“You have no idea what you do to me,” he spoke softly as he pulled my earlobe into his mouth and bit down, drawing a sharp gasp from my lungs. “Drive me fucking crazy,” he continued. “Can’t think about anything else.” His fingers dug into my hips impatiently, his demeanor turning somewhat manic in his desperation for me. It drove me wild. “Want you all the fucking time.”

“I want you, too,” I breathed, lifting my head, eager to feel his lips against mine as I circled my hips against his over and over.

“Can’t get enough. Never get enough of you.”

Something inside me snapped. I needed to feel him like I needed air. Sliding my hands between our bodies, I went for the button and zipper of his fly with quick efficiency. The moment my fingers wrapped around his cock, his forehead dropped to my shoulder. The power that coursed through me was a heady thing. I pumped my fist, circling the head of his erection with my thumb, spreading the beads of precum that had formed. I did that, me. I held Rowan in the palm of my hand, figuratively and literally, and I got off on the fact that I could make him react in such an animalistic way. My name came through his gritted teeth as he thrust into my fist.

“Fuck me, Rowan,” I whispered against his lips.

With another growl, his weight was gone. Our clothes went flying and I barely had time to blink before he flipped me over, propping my belly over the arm of the couch. I braced myself, waiting, praying for him to pound into me. But he was in the mood to tease. I whimpered as he slid through my folds, drenching himself in my wetness. “Rowan,” I cried.

“What, baby?”

“Please.”

He kept his rhythm between my thighs, the head of his dick hitting my clit with every upward stroke. “Want me to fuck you?”

I couldn’t speak; all I could do was nod.

“You want me hard, Navie?”

I nodded again.

“I want to feel you,” he spoke against my ear. My confusion must have come through with my lack of response so he continued. “Want to fuck you bare, baby. Nothing between us. Please tell me you’re covered. I’m losing my goddamned mind.”

“Rowan…” I trailed off, not sure how to answer. Part of me craved feeling him inside me with no barriers. But that small voice in the back of my head spoke up just then, warning me. It was too personal, too close. I was risking too much.

“Please,” he pleaded in a low, gravelly voice. “Tell me it’s okay, baby.”

How was I ever supposed to deny him anything when he spoke to me so lovingly, so reverently, like I was everything? I couldn’t. I knew it was a major blow to my protective armor. I knew the moment he slid into me with nothing between us that another piece of my heart was going to be lost to him. I just couldn’t say no.

“Yes. God!” He filled me so perfectly, so completely, in one quick thrust I nearly went over the edge.

“Oh, Jesus!” he ground out as he picked up the pace, pulling out quickly just to slam back in. “You feel so good, Navie.”

Each slam of his hips pushed the air from my lungs. I was a panting, writhing bundle of nerves ready to shatter. Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, Rowan proved me wrong. Twisting my hair around his fist, he pulled me up, his strong, sweat-slicked chest pressed firmly against my back. “Is that good?” he rasped in my ear as he licked and bit at my neck.

“S-so good,” I responded, tilting my head further to the side for better access as I pushed my ass back into him, my body setting a perfect rhythm with his.

“You love it when I’m inside you, baby? When I’m fucking you so deep, so hard, I’m all you’ll be able to feel for days?”

“Row—” I choked on a near sob building up in my throat. It was so fantastic, so blissful that I became overwhelmed by the sensation of everything. I was frantically pushing toward release at the same time I feared the intensity of what was about to happen.

“Only me,” he continued. Using the hand that wasn’t tangled in my hair, Rowan pried my fingers from the death grip I had on the arm of the sofa, leading our joined hands down my stomach, not stopping until we could each feel where his body connected with mine. “This pussy’s mine, Navie. All mine. Everything about you is mine.”

I dropped my head forward, lost in what he was doing to me, only to have him jerk my hair back, the sting in my scalp a perfect combination of pleasure and pain. “Say it. I want to hear you admit it.”

“Please,” I whimpered, too far gone.

“Tell me everything about you belongs to me, and I’ll give you what you want.”

I remained silent, my body at war with my head. One screaming at me to say the words while the other fought to keep me guarded.

“You’re so close. I can feel you squeezing around my cock, baby. You need to come, don’t you?”

I nodded, tears prickling the backs of my eyes.

“Just say it. Tell me and I’ll let you come. I’ll make it so good for you, Navie. You can trust me.”

“Yes!” I screamed, barreling closer and closer to the edge, needing nothing more than to fall over.

“Yes, what?”

“I belong to you!”

With that, he moved, guiding our interlocked fingers to my clit and applying just enough pressure to send me hurtling into the abyss, yelling his name over and over like a plea. He followed after me only seconds later.

And just like that, I’d given over that last little shred of my heart I had left, placing it in the palm of his hand, all the while praying I hadn’t just made the biggest mistake of my life.

It had been three days since I took Navie on my couch. Three days since something significant changed between us. It was a shift I knew she felt just as well as I did, despite the fact that she refused to acknowledge it. My head was muddled, but I was bound and determined not to fuck this up, consciously pushing the concerns and lingering anxiety to the deepest, darkest recesses of my mind and locking them in a steel, reinforced box. Things were good between us, I’d be a fool not to acknowledge that, and I was determined to do exactly what I told her I would—take things one day at a time. And so far, everything had been great.

Except for one little thing.

Like every night for the past week and a half, Navie climbed from my bed and began getting dressed. And like every night for the past week and a half, it pissed me off. It was completely foreign to me, wanting a woman to stay the night in my bed with me. Yes, my past one-night stands had sometimes stayed the night, but that was mainly because I was so exhausted afterwards, I passed out before I had a chance to send them packing—something I rectified early the following morning. But I wanted Navie to stay. And not only because I wanted her over and over again, but also just because I wanted her there.

I’d finally had enough.

“Where are you going?”

She was in the middle of pulling up her jeans when her head turned and those dark blues hit me. “Home,” she answered mid-yank, her voice coming out bewildered, as though she couldn’t understand why I’d even asked. That just pissed me off more.

Pulling my hands out from behind my head, I pushed up on my elbows to see her better. The movement caught her attention, and I couldn’t help but grin at the dazed look in her eyes as she stared at my abs like she wanted to lick every inch of them, something I was totally okay with. “You know, you don’t have to run out of here like your ass is on fire the moment I’m done fucking you.”

Her head jerked back in surprise, I just wasn’t sure if that surprise came from what I’d said, or the hint of agitation in my tone.