Her hands moved from his shoulders to his neck and she slanted her head as she pressed her mouth to his, their connection as effortless as always.

The taste and feel of him swept through Quinn’s senses. Much as she’d tried to resist, contact with him had become so intensely necessary for her, it was painful. Why was he the only man to make her feel this way? Sometimes she feared that she had imprinted on him for life. His hands were the only ones she would ever let touch her. His lips the only ones she wanted against her own.

Granted, they were very clever hands and lips. He knew exactly how to pet her, using the right amount of pressure and lazy, precise urgency as he slid his touch down to her buttocks, seeming to savor the feel of her while infusing her with deep pleasure. She was kissing him, but he was the one who made it so compelling. His tongue brushed hers, inviting her to deepen their connection. She did and moaned as she sank into the sheer luxury of being with him like this.

Sometimes she thought a kiss would be enough. That she just needed a taste of him, but it was never enough. Even on a humid day like today, she couldn’t get close enough. Couldn’t be held hard enough. She wanted to be absorbed through his skin so she was inside him forever.

It was a neediness that brought a sting to her eyes, one that should have had her pushing away from him so she wouldn’t succumb to it, but she sank into sensuality and the sense of belonging—not to him, butwithhim. It was only lust, she reminded herself, but there was no place for blunt reality right now. Not when she could wallow in the hungry pull of his lips and the wiry thickness of his hair between her fingers and the thick ridge of his erection right where she wanted to feel it.

Well, almost where she wanted it.

Cool air swept up her back as he gathered the skirt of her dress, sweeping it up her torso. She lifted her arms and he didn’t stop until the soft cotton was floating toward the floor. His arms stayed up and he leaned forward. She raked at his shirt, dragging it up and off, throwing it after her dress.

She removed her bra herself while he slouched back and worked on his belt buckle. His thighs pressed hers apart another inch as he opened his fly. He shoved his hand into his boxer briefs, pushing his clothing out of the way to fully free himself.

Oh, she adored the way he was built. Every single bit of him from the whorl at the crown of his head to the soles of his feet. It was pure animalistic instinct to want the most powerful male in the pack, the one with lean muscles that radiated strength and endurance. She let her greedy hands take in all the skin he had exposed—his thick shoulders and meaty pecs, his flexing biceps and his washboard abs. His hot, ever-so-hard erection that pulsed in her grip as she squeezed him and made him groan.

She had an urge to slip to the floor and take him in her mouth, but he swept the backs of two fingers beneath the string of her thong. His knuckle petted and caressed down her center, grazing the sweetest spot, making her breath catch.

A satisfied growl left him. He was watching her through slitted eyes as he did it again, this time with more purpose.

She bit her lip, squeezing him while holding very still for his deliberate touch. When he pulled away, she gave a sob of loss, but he casually snapped the thong and dragged it free, tossing it away before he cupped her mound with his wide palm.

Her body instinctually rocked against his hand, seeking the delicious waves of pleasure and heat he incited. She dipped her head to kiss him again and for long minutes they caressed each other, both of them doing the delicate, knowing things that made it good for the other. She swept her thumb across his weeping tip. He slid a finger deep inside her and his free hand cupped her breast, teasing her nipple until she was quivering in acute arousal.

“You’re almost there, aren’t you? Take me inside you,” he commanded in a voice that was raspy and filled with carnal hunger. “I want to feel it when you shatter.”

She wanted to feel him inside her when she shattered. With a small, helpless noise, she shifted higher on her knees and guided him. As the wide dome of his crown pressed at her entrance, he curled his arm around her back and angled his head, capturing her nipple in the hot cavern of his mouth, trapping her high on her knees.

She was so close! He held her there, pulled taut between two points of need, between the draw of his mouth on her nipple and the thickness her yearning flesh craved. She curled her fists into his hair, each breath a ragged flame. Every pulsebeat was a throb of unanswered need.

“Micah!” She dragged his head up and he let her weight press down. His hard flesh slid effortlessly into her, filling her with intense satisfaction as the pressure of his pubic bone took her over the edge.

She threw back her head and rolled her hips, instantly subsumed in orgasm, reveling in the shivering contractions and the way his hands kept her deep in his lap.

As the sharpest waves began to subside, she brought her head up and saw his nostrils were flared, his teeth bared in his effort to hold back his own climax. His fingers dug into her hips and his eyes were glazed with heat.

“See? A natural wonder.” He gathered her up and flipped her onto her back on the cushions, the weight of his pelvis settling against hers in a way that brought all her nerve endings back to life. “Now, let me see that again from this angle.”

CHAPTER THREE

MICAHHADN’TSLEPTLONG, ten or fifteen minutes tops, but it had been deep and solid. He was naked on the sofa, unsurprised to find himself alone. Quinn always seemed to slip away before they had to look each other in the eye.

The door to the balcony was still open. Mist had condensed on his skin, leaving him damp and chilled. It was a little too depressing for his otherwise physical contentment, but he was too lazy to move.

Quinn was right. He was thinking like an adult again, wondering why the hell he kept doing this with her. It definitely wasn’t a convenient affair. They lived on opposite sides of the Atlantic, crossing paths only a few times a year.

Nevertheless, it had become their habit to tear each other’s clothes off, then act as if it hadn’t happened. That was more her choice than his. He wasn’t embarrassed by their affair, but he agreed that Eden would make more of it than it was.

It had started two years ago, when Eden had finished her business degree. Quinn’s major was feminism and gender studies, a topic she was very passionate about—thus her insistence on independence and agency and his extensive education in respecting her choices.

Not that he minded. Much as his inner Neanderthal wanted to say,Woman. My bed. Stay there, he couldn’t help appreciating how confident and self-sufficient she was.

That’s why he’d insisted on including her when he invited Eden to his Greek villa. Quinn had put herself through school and graduated with honors. That deserved recognition.

Things had been unsettled between all of them after Paris, though. Micah had acknowledged and apologized for his poor behavior with Remy before they left, but Quinn hadn’t come with Eden the next time she visited. She had been busy with an accelerated track at school, but Micah had still taken it personally.

Perhaps he should have told them that he had sought counseling after acting so irrationally in Paris, but his sessions had been deeply private, forcing him to dredge through some painful memories in his childhood. Today had tested the equilibrium he’d gained since then. He was still angry at Remy for absconding with Eden, but he accepted that she was a willing participant in her abduction. Surely that proved him fully evolved, he thought dourly.