Page 133 of A Little Tempting

He nods, lining himself up with my entrance and slowly rubbing against me. But he doesn’t push in. Doesn’t give in.

“Do you like torturing me?” I tease.

“Savoring this,” he clarifies.

“Well, if you keep it up, I might come again.”

“That can be arranged.”

“Oliver…”

He pushes into me slowly—gently—but nothing prepares me for the blinding sensation. I gasp, the intrusion almost more than I can bear as a hot, searing pain makes my jaw drop in a silent scream.

Holy shit.

He freezes on top of me, letting me adjust to his size while keeping his weight on his elbows as he stares down at me. Resting his forehead against mine, he murmurs, “You’re perfect, Dyl. Fucking perfect.”

“And you’re too big,” I joke.

He chuckles quietly, shifting his weight onto one elbow and brushing my hair away from my face with his opposite hand.

“You’ll get used to me.”

“Debatable.”

“Nah. This is only the beginning, Dylan.” His smile softens, and I swear I can see his soul as he adds, “You were made for me.”

I don’t know why his words hit me so hard, but they do. Maybe it’s because I’m already close to crying, thanks to his massive dick splitting me in two. Maybe it’s because a quiet voice inside my head mentioned thismightonly be sex for him, in spite of everything we’ve been through. Maybe it’s the way he climbed the walls around my heart as if they were barely an inch tall, despite how many years I spent building them. Maybe it’s because a small piece of me didn’t want to believe this could be love. This could be everything.

Regardless, there’s something in this. This moment. Even if I’d slept with a hundred men before him, I have no doubt it would still feel like this. Like I really was made for him, and maybe, just maybe, he was made for me.

A tear slips from the corner of my eye, and he leans forward, kissing the trail of moisture, slowly moving his hips in and out of me. He’s careful. Gentle. Thoughtful. Like even now, my pleasure and my pain are more important than his, proving the kind of man he really is. And it means more than he can ever imagine.

Curling my arms around his neck, I keep him close as I lift my ankles and hook them around his waist until I cling to him like a monkey. I feel his smile against my neck as he burrows deep, thrusting into me over and over again, slowly picking up speed as my need builds. All too soon, we both tumble over the edge in more ways than one. The seams of my heart unravel more and more with every tremor of pleasure.

It's perfect. He's perfect. And even though I know without a doubt Oliver Reeves has the power to break me, I trust him not to.

33

DYLAN

“Igot you something,” Reeves announces as he strides toward me in the kitchen. It’s been a couple weeks since we officially hooked up, and to say things have been pretty close to perfect would be a massive understatement.

Looking up from my Captain Crunch cereal, I ask, “You got me something?”

“Yeah, I got you something.”

“You meananothersomething?” I prod.

He shrugs. “Sure.”

“Okay, no more buying me things.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know? Because you’re too sweet, and it makes me feel guilty?”

“Not gonna stop buying you things.” He slaps a cardboard box onto the kitchen table, his face beaming with pride. “Open it.”

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