Page 124 of Tempt

My heart kicks in my chest.

“You know I enjoy hearing your fantasies. But I’m a serious student now.” It’s hard to make a stern expression when he’s grinning down at me with those bedroom eyes. “Don’t make me into some sex object—”

“I’m serious about fucking you right now. Now be good and spread your legs.”

Yes, please.

As much as I like pushing back on him, I also like it when he tells me what to do.

Mostly when we’re naked.

In the past several months, we’ve christened nearly every surface of this house. The shower is a consistent favorite, and even the washing machine is a surprisingly ideal height.

Not only is Daniel good at making me come, he seems particularly devoted to finding new ways every time.

He unfastens his jeans and shoves them and his shorts down.

I’m already so wet at the thought of him taking me like this, but I can’t resist taunting him as he rubs his fingers lightly over my clit.

“Seems like you’re avoiding having a conversation about your feelings.”

“On the contrary. You want to know how I feel, I’ll gladly tell you.”

Daniel wraps an arm around my waist and slips the head of his cock inside me bare.

He sinks inside me on a groan that echoes off the damp mirrors.

I swear I will never get over the sensation of having him fill me with nothing between us.

I loop my hands around his neck. “How do you feel?”

He lifts my hips higher, driving all the way to the hilt.

“Fantastic. So do you,” he groans against my ear as he thrusts into me.

I hold on, laughing and breathless.

Daniel loves me and he shows me every damn day.

Things are different now that I’m not working for him, but it’s good. It feels like we’re on equal ground.

The fact that he’s older comes up sometimes but mostly, it’s just hot that he’s got ten years on me and he’s spent them becoming the kind of man I never dreamed I’d be with.

The phone rings.Clay.

Both our eyes go to the screen, but it’s Daniel who curses. “It’s like he knows we’re having sex and is doing his duty to stop us.”

“He’s been worried about getting traded.”

“Call him back later.”

The call goes to voicemail.

When Daniel shifts me back on the vanity, lowering my shoulders against the mirrors and changing the angle, I can’t find it in me to feel bad.

“Everything will be fine,” he murmurs.

“How do you know?”

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