This man.

Killing her once again, but in the very best way this time.

“I’m positive,” she whispered, then pressed her mouth against his for a lingering kiss that had his fingers on her shirt curling.

She kissed him again. Taking her time. Relearning the shape of his mouth. Nibbling softly at his full, lower lip. Lips clinging and retreating. Tongue touching the right corner of his mouth. Then the left.

And he let her. Let her control the kiss. Matching her pace. Responding to each press of her lips against his. Following her lead.

He opened for her and she swept her tongue inside his mouth, the taste of him like a drug that seeped into her veins, making her want more. She kissed him again. And again. Soft and sweet, slow and deep kisses until all she could feel was the slide of his tongue, the press of his lips, the slight abrasion of his whiskers.

All she knew was his scent and heat and strength.

All she wanted was more of him.

She would have happily stayed there, in her cramped kitchen, kissing him forever, but her legs were trembling from the combined effects of the kiss and her staying up on her toes. But when she eased back, breaking the kiss and lowering her heels, he chased her mouth. Captured it.

And took over.

This was supposed to be her showing him what was in her heart.

She was supposed to seduce him, damn it.

But it was hard to remember any of that when he slid his arm out from between them to wrap around her waist, dragged her closer, and lifted her into his arms. He started walking through her apartment, his strides long as he went through the kitchen and into the living room. Determined as he hefted her higher, never taking his mouth from hers.

He stopped long enough in the doorway of her bedroom to lean back against the frame and shift her higher, rubbing her center along his length. She gasped into his mouth and clutched his shoulders. Couldn’t help but tilt her hips up, seeking more of that wonderful friction. He groaned, tearing his mouth from hers to press his lips against the side of her throat, his tongue flicking over her rapidly beating pulse.

Then he gently bit that point and lifted her against him again.

Behind the thin material of her cotton shorts, her clit swelled. Pulsed. He took over her movements, his fingers gripping her ass tightly as he worked her up and down his length. Up and down.

And she realized the real reason she’d wanted to be in control was so that she could keep hiding.

But what better way to show him how she really felt about him than by letting herself go? Fully. Completely.

What better way to prove how much she trusted him than by handing over her control to him?

He pushed away from the doorframe, stalked over to the foot of her bed, and dropped her onto the mattress, then took two steps back. “Undress.”

Leaning back on her elbows, legs hanging over the edge of the bed, the tips of her sandals brushing the floor, she looked up at him. “Quickly? Or slowly?”

He made a sound, a grumble of pleasure that came from his chest, the heat in his eyes turning downright molten.

Oh, he liked that. Liked her asking what he wanted. Liked how she wanted to please him.

She liked it, too. So much that her nipples were two hard points, pushing against the material of her shirt. Her panties were soaked. She tried to assuage the ache in her pussy by squeezing her thighs together, but it was useless.

Nothing but Miles’s cock would do.

Unless it was his mouth.

Or his hands.

Or better yet, his mouth and his hands.

“How do you want to do it?” he asked.

“Quickly.”