His words shiver through me. I love that this man treats me like a princess but can also be dirty with me. He makes me feel so sexy, so free, like I can do and be anything I want with him. I use my hand on his butt to push him in deeper, gagging slightly, but it’s worth it for the satisfied groan he makes, for the flexing of his fingers in my hair. Then he’s pulling me up, looking at me with those glittering eyes that make me feel like he sees something in me that no one else has—that maybe no one else never will—and he kisses me, sucking on my bottom lip. “You were going to make me come,” he says gruffly. “But I’m not ready for that. There’s so much more I’d like to do to you.”

Pleasure pulses between my legs. Anticipation.

“You seem like a man of action,” I say, barely recognizing my voice. It’s so full of need for him.

He smiles at me, the smile of a wolf, then leads me over to the bed. He lies down, then says, “Sit on my face.”

“What?” I say, the word coming out like a squawk.

“Sit on my face.”

“I can’t do that! I’d crush you,” I say, even as the insinuation slithers through me, heating me.

“Most of your weight will be on your thighs, but even if it wasn’t, you could never crush me,” he says through a slightly amused smile. “Even if you tried.”

He reaches for my thigh, letting his fingers play over my butt, tracing circles on my skin that send bursts of hot-cold shivers through me.

“I’ve never done this before.”

“Good,” he says through another of those wolf smiles.

I go to him, and I climb onto the bed, feeling awkward as I sit over his face, but the feeling only lasts for half an instant because his mouth is on me, his hands reaching up to cradle my breasts. He caresses them and tweaks my nipples as he sucks on my clit and then circles it with his tongue. His hands keep moving as he pleasures me with his mouth, his tongue sweeping through my folds and then spearing inside, pulsing, before he goes back to my clit. The waves of sensation shooting through me escape my mouth in breathy sighs as I feel bliss working through me—building, building…

“Oh my God, Rowan, oh my God.”

It’s too much as he sucks on my clit again and then returns to pulsing with his tongue, his hands still on my breasts, every part of me consumed by him even though it’s me sitting on his face. The thought of him wanting to do this for me, of him being turned on by it, only spirals my pleasure higher. So does the tickle of his beard against my skin and the heat of his breath, of his mouth, the slight nip of his teeth, and then—

“I’m coming. Rowan, I’m—”

He only works harder, pushing me over the edge as he circles my clit again and sucks. I collapse to one side of him, not wanting to actually crush his head, and he gathers me up to him, my back to his front. I can feel his hardness pressed against me, and even though waves of pleasure are still cascading through me, I whisper, “Now. I need you now.”

He kisses the side of my neck and reaches down, finds my wetness with his hand, sucks in a breath, and then moves himself into position.

I cry out when he thrusts into me—one hard thrust that puts him exactly where I need him, and even though I just came, I feel the rumbles of pleasure coursing through me again, already, as he moves into me, his hand reaching around to play with my clit as he thrusts. His lips are hot on my neck. “You feel so good, Kennedy,” he says in a breathy growl. “Like your pretty little pussy was made for me.”

And it feels like his cock was made forme, because it’s never been this good before, even with Brandon, when I was so blinded by infatuation that I thought he was my soulmate. It never felt quite right. It never felt like this—like someone was giving pieces of me back to myself. It always felt like he was taking something away.

Rowan lightly bites my neck as he thrusts in deeper, moving the top of my leg over his legs to change the angle, and it feels so good, so impossibly good. One of his hands is still caressing my breasts, the other on my clit as he rubs slow circles around it, timing them with his thrusts.

I look back at him in wonder, and find him staring at me the same way, his eyes free of any shutters. They’re full of emotion, and it’s for me. He leans in and kisses me, his thrusts slowing, and suddenly I need to face him—I need to be looking into his eyes as we finish this, so I pull away.

“I want to look at you,” I blurt out. Normally, I might feel self-conscious, like I’d said something needy or stupid, but I don’t feel any of that because he’s gazing at me with such liquid warmth.

He doesn’t say anything. He just pulls out, and turns me so I’m on my back, then slowly, so slowly the anticipation might very well kill me, thrusts back in. We take each other like that, slowly, looking into each other’s eyes, kissing slowly too, and the combination drives me indescribably wild. It’s not long beforehe pulls another orgasm out of me, leaving me gasping with pleasure.

“I can’t do slow anymore, Kennedy,” he says, breathing jaggedly. “Seeing you fall apart like that, I—”

“So fuck me fast,” I say, the words a surprise to me as they fall out of my mouth.

He thrusts in fast and hard, almost pushing me over the peak again. He finishes in seconds, and after I clean up, we lay together, me nestled in his arms, my head on his chest.

It feels amazing, and we both laugh when Jester, who’s been snoozing on his bed, paws the side of the mattress to be let up. Rowan picks him up so gently it almost brings me to tears, and he nestles in next to us.

“Let’s play truth,” Rowan says after a few minutes, running his fingers along my jaw and then down the bridge of my nose like he wants to memorize me.

“Truth. What’s your favorite part of living in Highland Hills?”

“Being close to my sisters,” he says, and I can’t deny that a pang of sadness unfurls inside me. I’d like that too. Phillip’s still in Chicago, of course, but he never spends time with me. He treats me with the same blank affection you’d feel for a Golden Retriever—it’s more for the role of little sister than it is for me.