I fear I always will.

“Well then…” He abruptly releases me from his embrace. “I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

I quickly roll over and pull him toward me, hooking my leg around his waist. “Don’t you dare, you tease.”

He skims his lips against mine. “And I thought you liked it when I teased you.”

He circles his hips. When his arousal hits my clit, sparks shoot through me, and I throw my head back. “Do I ever.”

“Mmm… And I really like teasing you.” He pushes me onto my back. “So damn much,” he murmurs, burying his face in the crook of my neck as he drives inside of me.

I release a noiseless gasp at the sudden invasion, my muscles clenching as a myriad of sensations fill me. I didn’t think it was possible to feel this much during sex. With most of the other guys I’ve been with, Oliver included, I couldn’t wait for it to be over so I could disappear into the bathroom and take care of my needs.

With Beckham, that’s not necessary. He always makes sure I’m completely satisfied before he allows himself the same pleasure. And not just once, either. The man seems to be on a mission to see how many times he can bring me to orgasm, almost like it’s a challenge to him. Like I’m a challenge to him.

Then again, isn’t that what we’ve always been to each other?

“You feel so damn good, Haley,” he grunts as he fills me. “Love how warm you are. How tight you are.” He straightens, pressing his thumb to my clit. “How wet you are.”

“Beckham…” I moan, lost to the sensation. “I don’t… It’s too much. I don’t think my body can handle another orgasm.”

Chuckling, his lips find mine, his tongue caressing mine in a scintillating kiss that I feel from the tips of my fingers all the way down to my toes.

“If you ask me, death by orgasm is a damn good way to go.” He slows his motions. “But if you don’t think you can handle it, I’ll stop.” He starts to pull out, but before he can, I wrap my legs around his waist.

“You’d really leave your wife unsatisfied?”

His eyes flame, just like they always do when I refer to myself as his wife.

I didn’t think I’d like the reminder of my attachment to him, considering the lengths I’ve gone to in order to ensure we keep the lines as clearly drawn as possible.

I’m pretty sure we eviscerated every single one of those lines last night. The idea doesn’t fill me with unease like I thought it would. How can it when I’ve been the lucky recipient of several earth-shattering orgasms?

“You said you weren’t sure your body could handle any more. Just trying to be a good husband and listen to your needs.”

I drag my tongue along his neck, taking his earlobe between my teeth. “You probably wouldn’t be able to make me come again anyway.”

“I believe my record indicates otherwise. If I’m right, and I usually am, I’ve given you six orgasms over the past eight hours.”

“Seven,” I correct.

“What’s that?”

“It’s seven orgasms. You’ve given me seven orgasms.”

“Seven. That’s a good number. But I’m not a fan of odd numbers.” He lifts my leg and drapes it onto his shoulder. “Why don’t we make it eight?”

Before I can answer, he leans closer and thrusts into me, this position allowing him to go even deeper than before.

“God, Haley,” he groans, closing his eyes as pleasure covers his expression. “Why can’t I get enough of this? Why can’t I get enough of you?”

“I have no idea.” I crane my head, chasing his kiss. “But I don’t care. I just need this.” I pull him closer. “Need you.”

“Oh, god,” he whimpers, a visible shiver rolling through him. “I need you to come because I’m about to?—”

Before he can utter another syllable, the unmistakable patter of little feet cuts through, followed by the sound of a door opening.

But not just any door.