Page 261 of Remy

“Well, considering all the fantasies I’ve had this year involved a man who iced me out whenever things got steamy, I think the Batman stitch is a nice compromise, don’t you?”

I don’t regret the so-called icing.

There’s no doubt in my mind she would’ve had regrets after fucking me if we’d done it way back when, especially given the circumstances that surrounded our explicit encounters.

But things are different now.

I can’t stand the thought of leaving her wanting. I’d do anything to make her happy. To convince her to stay.

I’m all in.

“I need you,” she whispers, placing the most delicate kiss to my neck, the featherlight touch electrifying. “Will you deny me again?”

I know I should.

After what she’s endured she can’t be thinking straight.

“Because, no matter how bad you are at this,” she continues, “horrible sex isn’t going to come anywhere near the worst memory I’ll take from today.”

I fight a smirk, fucking frothing over her sass. “I’m not bad at this, Pyro.”

She leans back with a raised brow “Are you sure? The constant delays haven’t instilled me with confidence.”

She’s such a fucking temptation—those emotive eyes, those lush lips.

“I would’ve thought the orgasms I’ve previously given would’ve lessened any doubt.”

She shrugs. “I’ve chalked them up to flukes.”

“Is that right?” I wrap my arms around her and shove to my feet, increasing my hold when she squeaks. “I guess I need to try harder to convince you.”

She wraps her arms around my neck. “Being hard is definitely a good platform for your campaign.”

My chest thrums with the need to laugh.

I fucking love this woman.

I steal her mouth for a kiss as I stalk across the room, pulse thumping, cock well and truly hardened. She cups my cheeks, fusing our mouths, moaning into the contact.

“God, I adore you,” she murmurs against my lips.

I hold her tighter. Kiss her harder.

I carry her into my bedroom, kicking off my shoes as I approach the bed to sink onto the mattress. “Are you sure you want this?”

“Without a doubt.” She nods her forehead against mine.

“Then be a good girl and hitch that skirt so you can straddle me.”

She whimpers into my mouth and does as instructed, pulling and tugging the tight material of her pencil skirt to the top of her thighs as she shimmies in my lap.

It’s a fucking storm of friction against my cock.

“Like this?” She kicks off her tiny pumps and climbs on top of me, settling the heat of her pussy over my crotch.

“Just like that,” I moan. “Such a good girl.”

She reclaims my cheeks. My lips.

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