“You begged me not to stop, remember that?”
 
 “No,” I answer truthfully, though memories were starting to sputter to life.Back arching… the thickness of his cock spreading me wide.I blink the memory away as my breathing increases.
 
 He laughs wickedly. “How about the first time ya coated my tongue? That ravenous moan ya wailed as my tongue slithered down your slit, toying with your clit that ya so recklessly gave me.” His hand slides into my hair. “Ya clawed at me hair just like this,” he whispers, snapping my head back, his breath battering the flesh of my neck in an outcry of war. “You held me there until ya legs were shaking, your trembles only fueling me need for more.”
 
 My thighs squeeze together, arousal soaking my panties instantly. My body fucking remembers, even if my brain doesn’t compute.
 
 He leans in, mouth brushing over my ear. “And when I finally fucked ya?” His voice deepens. “You said ya’d never been filled like that. That ya’d feel me for days.”
 
 I gasp, every nerve firing at once.
 
 “You said it was the best you’d ever had.”
 
 He pulls back just enough to see my face, smirking like he owns every breath I take. His towel slips a little lower on his hips, exposing that dangerous V line to his crotch, wisps of hair starting to peek above the wet fabric.
 
 My eyes betray me, flicking down.God help me, he’s getting hard.
 
 “You feel it now, don’t ya?” he says, grabbing my wrist and placing my hand on the front of the towel. “Go on, love. Give it a squeeze. Might jog ya memory.”
 
 I should pull away, but I don’t. My fingers twitch against him, the heat of him pulsing through the cotton as he goads my hand to curl around him.
 
 The tension between us is combustible, but I refrain, retracting my hand just enough to break the torturous snap.
 
 “You wanted it slow at first… then begged me to go rough. Said ya wanted to forget. Did I help ya forget, baby?”
 
 He steps between my legs, nudging me back against the wall. I don’t even realize I’ve let him until my thighs part for him instinctively, and I feel the weight of his cock pushing against my center.
 
 “Still so bloody warm,” he murmurs, grinding just enough to make me gasp. “Still mine.”
 
 “I’m not yours,” I pant.
 
 He smiles as if he knows I’m lying. “Then why are ya shakin’?”
 
 He leans in, kisses the edge of my jaw, those seductive lips viciously teasing the contours of my throat. His hands slide under my dress, skimming up my thighs.
 
 I grab his wrist, but there’s no force in it.
 
 “Want me to stop?” he teases, fingers toying with the edge of my panties.
 
 I don’t answer. Words fail me miserably; all I can do is silently plead with my eyes for him to stop. My brain wants him to. My heart knows this can’t go any further. But my pussy remembers him. She’s practically doing cartwheels at the thought of him possessing her again.Fuck.
 
 “You weren’t so quiet last time,” he murmurs.
 
 His hand cups me through the fabric, rubbing slow, torturous circles over my clit until I arch into him with a soft moan.
 
 “That’s it,” he breathes. “There she is.”
 
 His other hand lifts up to my face, brushing damp strands of sweat-drenched hair off my cheeks and out of my eyes. He kisses me, but it’s less of a kiss and more like a graze. Just enough to make me want more.
 
 “Stop,” I whisper, too damaged to demand more. “I’m engaged.”
 
 When he pulls back, his eyes are wild with lust and something else… something raw. He shakes his head, a low chuckle vibrating through him. “And yet here ya are, meltin’ under my hands like chocolate in the sun. I wondered what it meant when ya left this behind,” he says, his voice more guttural—primal. He opens his palm. There, glittering against his skin, is my engagement ring. The one Eddie gave me the first time he asked me to marry him.
 
 “Found it on the nightstand, long after ya’d pissed off without a word. Ya know how fuckin’ stupid I felt? Watched ya sleep for hours; thought ya were holdin’ onto somethin’ real. I thought I was that dream. That’s why I kept this. Knew you’d come back for it… for me”
 
 “I didn’t mean to leave it,” I whisper.
 
 He steps back just slightly, enough for cool air to rush between us. I feel the loss like a slap. He drops the towel. Just lets it fall.