Page 231 of If Our Hearts Collide

I rub and massage, enjoying the moans escaping from between her lips.

Penny likes being touched by me, and the realization sends a shock wave through me, because I very much love it as well.

My hands explore northward from her ankles up to her calves, and when they get to her inner thighs, I spread her wide. I want her open and vulnerable. If this is going to work short-term, then Penny needs to realize that I don’t falter on my expectations. I like what I like and lack the desire to put a label on it.

I want her body to spell out the answers to my questions.

Does she like my tongue licking her folds?

Does she like to see herself in the mirror while I take her from behind?

Does she like to feel my cock pulsing in her mouth while she swallows my seed?

Does she like to go dizzy from her source of oxygen being obstructed?

I’m going to have so much fun bending her to my will. Deep down I know she wants to resist, but her need to please me will be stronger. I can sense it.

“Don’t move, Penny.”

“Okay…”

“You move? I stop.”

I watch her throat as she swallows hard, her chest rising and falling as I kneel between her legs. Taking my time with her is the last thing on my mind, and yet I owe it to Penny to prepare her for my entry—despite the painful signals my cock is sending to me to hurry the hell up.

I want Penny with every part of my being and in every imaginable way. But I also want to make this a pleasant experience for her.

I want this to be her first time, erasing whatever horridness she’s endured in the past.

Penny may be worried over compatibility, but I’m not. I’ve known it since her birthday party that she’d be the fire to my fuse.

For weeks we’ve been playing this seductive game where there’s no real way to win, but also no way to not play.

My mind can’t think about the endgame. I can only think about the now.

And right now, I will have Penelope Josephine Hoffman.

43

PENNY

No matter how many times I’ve played this scenario out in my head, nothing prepared me for the enigmatic Collins Stone. Never did I think the unyielding man would ever give in to the wishes of a girl like me.

Every touch of his hands running up my naked legs is intentional. He is slow and methodical. He says what he means and acts on what he says. Nothing Collins does is on accident or done without thoughtful consideration.

Every cast of his eyes warms me from head to toe, filling my insides with an energy that tingles through my limbs. He is seducing me with just his attention, and I’m melting under his approving gaze.

I didn’t think Collins could soften his exterior shell long enough to let me into his life, but here I am fully submerged—and I plan to soak up every second he is willing to give me.

Except I’m so afraid to disobey him by moving and be the reason all of this stops.

To Collins, I’m probably a walking red flag, and I desperately don’t want to wave that stop sign or make him second-guess his choices.

Because I want this.

I want him to erase my past bad experiences—or at the very least dull them enough to not be the focal point in my history.

I’ve been summoned to remain still and yet every inch of me wants to curl and mold myself around Collins’s strong body, like a custom blanket. I want my own touch to be branded on his skin so he will remember this moment, just as much as I want to remember it.

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