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“Touch your breasts for me.” The shocking demand had her eyes widening. “Come on, Zoey. I can see all that wild hunger inside you, dying to be free. Let me show you how to release it. Let me show you how to be wild for both of us. Our own little adventure.”

Their own adventure. And she did so love adventures.

Zoey licked her dry lips, her hands moving, cupping her breasts as he finished unbuttoning his shirt. The first touch of her fingers against the swollen flesh brought a smothered cry from her lips. It had never felt like that before. Her own touch had never brought such a rush of instant pleasure as it did while he watched her.

“See how much better it is.” His voice was low, grating as he removed his shirt. “Hotter, the pleasure stronger when you share it.”

It was. So much stronger, her senses becoming dazed with the rush of sensations building inside her now.

“What do you like?” Satisfaction filled his gaze, his expression. “Show me how you touch yourself when you think of me, Zoey. Let me see how you pleasure those pretty breasts. Do you touch your nipples easy? Or do you tighten your fingers on them to find that edge of pleasure and pain?” Sitting on the chair next to her bed, he dragged his boots free of his feet. “I bet you like the edge. I bet you love that little bit of fire streaking through the pleasure.”

She gripped her nipples, working them firmly, a helpless, mewling little moan spilling unbidden from her lips. She didn’t know if she could stand it. Sensations tore through her senses now, striking through her body, wrapping around the swollen bud between her thighs and clenching the untouched depths of her sex.

Rising from the chair, Doogan moved to her, bent, and unzipped her boots before pulling them from her feet. When he straightened, his hands settled on her denim-covered knees and stroked slowly, so slowly, from her knees to her thighs, his thumbs meeting at the apex and pressing firmly against the aching, engorged little kernel of her clit.

“Doogan.” As she arched sharply, her fingers tightened on her nipples, the rush of searing sensation washing through her senses and drowning them with pleasure.

“Oh, Zoey,” he breathed out, his lips lowering to her stomach, his tongue licking over her flesh. “It’s going to be so damned good.”

So damned good.

The metal tab and zipper of her jeans were released, the denim drawn down her thighs slowly before Doogan slid them completely off her legs, leaving her clad only in the white lacy panties she wore beneath them.

His gaze centered there.

“Hell,” he breathed out, his voice rough, his fingers catching the elastic band and removing them as well, leaving her naked to his gaze.

His fingers feathered over the bare flesh above her clit, his gaze darker, gleaming with such hunger her breath caught at the sight of it.

“How sweet,” he whispered, his gaze lifting to hers. “Do you know how much better it’s going to be with your flesh bare and unprotected against my touch, Zoey?” His lips quirked into a smile of satisfaction. “So fucking good you’ll scream with it.”

She couldn’t stand the excitement much longer.

The heated spill of slick moisture between her thighs, sensation tightening at her clit, torturous in the need filling it, drew a dazed moan from her lips.

When he caught her wrists and slowly drew her hands back from her breasts, a shock of painful need clenched at her womb, arching her hips.

One night, she reminded herself. She could have him. He’d be her first, and he’d hold her heart forever. But Zoey knew she couldn’t have more. Not yet. Not until she knew the truth of her nightmares.

But she could have tonight.

She could be daring, adventurous. She could have the fantasies, the pleasure, and the lover she chose the moment she saw him.

She could have Doogan.

Doogan was watching her eyes when he saw the explosion of color in them. The pale, pale green became surrounded by a ring of emerald fire, glowing like cats’ eyes as her expression became suffused with such sensual, feminine hunger that the sight of it had his cock pounding with the rush of lust shooting to his balls.

Hell, had he ever been so damned hot for a woman? A virgin at that. He’d never taken a virgin, never been the first to experience a woman’s pleasure. For a reason. He had no future to give them, he had no right to that first taste of them.

Until Zoey.

The very thought of another man claiming her innocence made him crazy. The tormenting knowledge that another man could bring her to orgasm, could feel her snug pussy gripping, milking his flesh as she came for him, enraged him.

He had nightmares of another man mounting her delicate little body and taking her. Dreams that brought him from sleep, so furious he could barely stand himself for hours afterward, tormented him.

He couldn’t sleep for the thought of it; he could barely work for it. She had become an obsession in the past year, one he had to exorcise. One he’d have to burn out of his system before he could go on with his life.

When she straightened, sitting proudly before him as he placed his knee on the bed to lower himself to her, Doogan stilled. The wild hunger that filled her expression held him spellbound, still and silent as he waited to see what she intended to do.

She didn’t make him wait long.

“Damn, Zoey.” His teeth snapped together as her lips pressed to his abdomen, parted, and let her teeth scrape over the taut muscles. Her fingers were slowly releasing the leather belt circling his hips as her hot little tongue met his navel, causing his hands to jerk to her hair and clench in the lush curls with a desperate grip.

What the hell was in her mind?

“Zoey, don’t . . .” God, she was so young, she had no idea—

Sharp little teeth nipped at his flesh in retaliation.

Her expression was determined, and so free of artifice. Lush, spiraling midnight curls surrounded her, flowing around her body like a living cape, giving her a preternatural appearance that had a dark dominance raging inside him.

Tightening his hand in her hair, Doogan drew her head back, tugging at the strands firmly.

The catch of her breath was a sound of shocked pleasure. The sound a woman makes at that first, conscious realization that the mix of pleasure and pain had the power to excite. Keeping that sharp pressure on her scalp, he stared down at her, trying to gauge the strength of the hunger he could see in her face.

“I could lay you back and make sweet love to your exquisite body for hours,” he warned her, making certain she understood what she was about to do. “But you go this route, I won’t be easy on you until you’ve finished me. Until you’ve taken every drop of my cum down that sweet throat. Do you understand me?”

“Did I ask you to go easy on me?” she breathed out, shocking him, her breathy voice racking his senses with need. “It’s my adventure too, isn’t it?”

Their adventure, and yes, it was hers too. If this was what she wanted, then he’d give it to her. And he’d love every damned second he was filling her mouth.

In seconds he had his belt loose, pants undone and tossed to the floor.

Wrapping his fingers around the heavy stalk of his engorged penis, he reached out, flipping the light on next to her bed and stared down at her.

He nearly came at the first clear sight of hungry innocence in her face.

He had no business with her, like this, and Doogan knew it.

Not with this act, where instinct warned him he couldn’t go easy on her.

“You asked for this, Zoey,” he reminded her, his entire body clenching as she licked her lips in anticipation. “If you want to stop, I’ll stop, at any time. But I won’t go easy while you have your mouth wrapped around my dick.”

Witchy eyes narrowed, the light green gleaming with challenge.