Page 40 of One Spicy Summer

"You," I say between kisses, "are going to be the death of me."

“And you," she teases back, "are already whipped. Completely, hopelessly whipped.”

I pretend to look scandalized, clutching my heart. “Lies and slander!”

She grins wickedly. "Admit it, Rygaard. You’d do anything I ask."

I stare down at her, my heart swelling so much it almost hurts. “Yeah," I say quietly, brushing her hair back from her face. "Anything."

Her smile softens, and for a second the teasing fades into something deeper. She cups my jaw, eyes sparkling even in thelow light. “Good. Because after round three... we’re going to my place and you're making me pancakes.”

I burst out laughing, dropping my head to her shoulder. “Pancakes? I just rocked your world, and you wantbreakfast?"

“Hey, a girl’s gotta keep her strength up.” She winks. “You’re alotof man, Rygaard."

I groan dramatically. "Fine. Pancakes. With chocolate chips, or you're not getting a damn thing outta me later."

She laughs so hard she snorts, and it’s the most beautiful sound I’ve ever heard.

I pull her closer, already planning to give hereverythingshe asks for and more.

Because Presley isn't just my first.

She's myforever.

“Our night’s just beginning, Princess, and I plan on giving you every orgasm you ever thought you missed out on."

I nudge her legs apart, savoring the little hitch in her breath. "Are you sore at all?" I ask, my hand trailing up to cup her breast, giving it a firm squeeze. Mischief flickers in her bright eyes. "Are you sore, Princess?" I ask again, my voice lower, rougher. She shakes her head, but I arch a brow. "Use your words, baby girl."

"A little," she whispers, then clamps her mouth shut.

"You what?" I coax, fingers teasing the sensitive skin just below her breast. "When I ask you a question," I say, squeezing just a little harder, "I expect an answer." She whimpers at the authority in my tone, sending a jolt straight to my cock.

"Y-yes," she finally stammers, a little breathless. "I’m sore... but Ilikethe ache. There's this fire burning inside me, and I think if I come again... it'll finally go out."

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

My sweet, perfect Princess, asking for more.

Her small hands dance along my back as she holds her breath, waiting for my reaction. I don't speak, I just smile and lean in to inhale her scent: lilac and cherry blossom. Pure Presley.

"Fuck, Prez," I groan. "You smell so good."I’ve never been able to control myself around her. She’s got this natural pull, this gravitational force that tears down every wall I ever built.

We practically grew up together, neighbors, best friends with her brother, Rafe. She was just one of the guys... until she wasn't.Until the day I noticed the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts.Until the day I started making threats to any other guy who so much aslookedat her. Rafe thought I was just an honorary big brother. He didn’t know the truth. I didn’t want to protect Presley from the world. I wanted to keep herfor myself.

“Ry, you’ve already had your fun down there," she teases, tangling her hands in my hair, tugging me lower. "But if you’re really craving a repeat performance... who am I to deny you?"

"I love it when you take charge like this, Princess," I groan, letting her guide me between her legs.

And then I devour her, tongue and lips working feverishly until her thighs tremble and my face is slick with her sweetness. "You almost lost control, didn't you?" I tease against her dripping folds.

She nods, gasping out, "No, sir."

Fuck me. "You don’t know what hearing you call me 'sir' does to me," I rasp, dragging my body back over hers.

"Open your legs, Prez," I order, though I don't wait, positioning myself at her entrance. Our eyes lock, heat and needburning like wildfire between us. No words. Justus. "Brace yourself," I whisper, and thrust deep inside.

"Ry!" she cries, arching her back as I fill her completely.

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