Mitch tipped the waiter and showed him to the door. His stomach growled. He was starving, not only for food, but for his voracious hunger for Alana. As he walked into the bedroom, she shuffled from the bathroom, her hands up while she took cautious steps.

“There’s nothing in front of you. If you take three small steps forward, you’ll hit the mattress.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

He stared at her as she approached the bed. She looked perfect in his clothes, casual with her long hair resting over her shoulders, and damn sexy with the way the oversized shirt hung from her breasts. He’d never get the picture out of his head. Or be able to pull his boxers on again without thinking of her.

“Something smells nice.”

His inner slut replied it’s you, but instead of voicing the flirtation, he said, “I hope you’re hungry. I think I ordered enough to feed a football team.”

She strolled along her side of the mattress and sat when she reached her pillow. “I can’t believe how quick it came. I’ve only stayed at a few hotels, but whenever I’ve ordered room service, it took forever.”

“Yeah. Another perk of the celebrity lifestyle. People usually go out of their way to make us happy.” He pushed the trolley closer to the bed and sat in front of her. One by one he placed the plates on the bed and removed their lids. When he glanced up at her, a deep frown etched her brow. “What’s wrong?”

“Umm…” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Just trying to figure out how I’m going to eat.”

Score one for Mitch Davies. “I’ll feed you.”

She cringed and sank her teeth into her bottom lip.

“What?” He chuckled. “Being hand fed by my skillful fingers isn’t appealing?” He’d been referring to his guitar skills, but the ruby red that darkened Alana’s cheeks implied she took his statement another way.

“As much as I like to be completely dependent on a total stranger, who happens to be extremely wealthy and famous, no, I’m not looking forward to being baby fed.” She lifted her gaze from the quilt cover and stared straight through him. “I can think of much better ways to embarrass myself.”

He grabbed a pancake off the nearest plate, tore a bite-sized piece off, and held it in front of her lips. Her nostrils flared slightly and she closed her eyes with a soft moan.

“Those smell divine.”

Almost as good as you.

Her tongue snaked out, enticing him to place something entirely different against her mouth. He could already feel the slide of her tongue over his shaft, the way she’d suck him deep, making him groan.

“You ready?” He cleared the gravel from his throat and placed the pancake against her lips.

With ladylike politeness, she opened slightly and allowed him to feed her. He watched her chew and had to swallow over the lump in his throat. She had the sexiest lips, both full and made for pleasure. He couldn’t pull his gaze away.

Needing a distraction, he grabbed a piece of bacon from one of the plates and put it in his mouth. Not even the salty goodness made his mind wander. Every thought was firmly placed on her. On getting her naked. On making her wet.

He moved to his knees and shuffled toward her, letting their legs brush when he sat. He needed to taste her, one last time to get her out of his system. Then he would eat.

He leaned into her, and she tilted her head toward him, sensing his approach. He dismissed the soft and slow advance, his hunger too strong, and went straight in to lick the sweetness from her lips. She jerked in surprise and her hands came to land on his shoulders.

He should back off. Retreat. Instead, he parted her lips with his tongue and breathed in her feminine mewls. She yielded to his hunger, kissing him back with pleasure that made his cock hard as stone. He cupped the back of her neck and leaned further into her, the soft flesh of her breasts rubbing against his chest. The ache to be inside her grew, the pressure on his balls becoming insistent.

“Thought I could smell food.” The bed bounced with Blake’s weight.

Fuck. Mitch broke the kiss and growled. “Great timing, bro.”

Blake bit off a large piece of bacon and chewed. “We discussed this last night. If you leave the door open, I’m going to invite myself to the party,” he finished with a wink.

Mitch feigned a stern expression as he struggled not to chuckle.

“Just remember that the next time you two want to get funky.” Blake continued. “If the door isn’t shut, I’ll be taking it as an open invitation to join the festivities.”

Alana’s jaw gaped, and he gave a warning shake of his head to Blake, who frowned back in confusion.

“He’s joking, Allie.” Mitch placed his hand on hers and gave a squeeze.

She kept her gaze downcast and smiled. “Morning, Blake.”

“Morning, sweet cheeks,” he said around another bite of bacon.

Her dimples came out in a gorgeous show of angelic perfection, and Mitch shot Blake a glare. “Don’t you have something better to do?”

“Than eat?” Blake raised a brow. “Nope. I don’t have any plans until the interview later. So, I’m all yours.”

Interview? “Shit! I completely forgot about the radio station. What time do we have to be there?”

“Four-thirty.”

Fuck. He’d planned to spend the day in the suite seducing Alana. He didn’t want to place her out of her comfort zone, and he couldn’t leave her here to fend for herself either.

Her gaze lifted to focus straight past him in concern.

“It’s fine.” He gave her hand another squeeze. “I’ll work something out. They don’t need me anyway. The focus is usually on Mason.”

“No.” She shook her head in disgust. “You’re not missing out on an interview because of me.”

“I’ll stay back and look after her.” Blake smirked at him. “You’re the important lead guitarist, remember. I’m sure I can find something we can both do to pass the time.”

Mitch clenched his jaw. Why the hell was Blake pushing him?

“I’d be happy to do that, as long as you don’t have to be there, Blake.” Alana held her head high, and Mitch’s heart plummeted to the base of his stomach. Had she turned into a groupie already? Did she now want to see what Blake had to offer? “I think I’d be comfortable staying here with him.”

Her eyes focused closer to his face and her lips tilted up in a grin. “You said he was gay, right?”

Blake choked and held his hand to his mouth while he reached for a glass of juice from the trolley. Mitch’s veins flooded with relief and he threw his head back and laughed. His girl was a little tease.

“You told her I was gay?” Blake blurted.

“No, he didn’t.” Alana’s dimples deepened with her widening smile. “I was just trying to put you back in your place.”

Mitch’s laughter grew, echoing off the walls. Blake sat in silence, blinking at him with a gaping mouth. His girl was a tease, and a hard-ass. He leaned over, placed a kiss on her cheek, and gave a cocky wink back to Blake.

“Right. I guess there’s always a first for everything. I can’t remember a groupie ever knocking back a three-way—”

“She isn’t a groupie,” Mitch growled, and the temperature in the room dropped. What was up with Blake? He wasn’t usually a troublemaker, and yet he wouldn’t quit with the comebacks this morning.

“I think that’s my cue to leave.” Blake grabbed a pancake and began to lift off the bed.

“No!” Alana shook her head. Her brow furrowed and she reached out to stay him. “I was only joking. Please don’t go.”

Mitch stared at where her hand lay on Blake’s crotch and appreciated that his friend didn’t comment.

Nobody spoke. Nobody moved. The only change in the room was the unmistakable awkwardness that settled around them.

“Please tell me I don’t have my hand someplace inappropriate.” Alana’s voice broke.

“You wouldn’t be the first woman we’ve shared, if that’s what you’re after,” Blake purred.

She yanked her hand back and snapped her eyes shut as she tilted her face away. “Excuse me for a minute.” She scooted from the bed and felt her way along the mattress.

“Alana, wait.”

She shook her head, the color now drained from her face. The women they were accustomed to would’ve loved the threesome invitation. Yet her hands shook when they reached for the wall, and her face had lightened to a paler shade than white.

He went after her, but the bathroom door closed before he got there.

“Is she OK?” Blake asked in concern.

Mitch had no idea. He wasn’t used to women like Alana, fragile and unpredictable. He’d grown to loathe the easy females who found a way to their hotel suites, but at least he knew what to expect from them.

“I don’t know. She’s been through a lot in the last twenty-four hours.” He stood at the bathroom door and knocked softly.

“Just give me a minute,” her voice wavered.

Instead of waiting, he turned the handle, giving her time to protest if she was using the facilities. When nothing came, he pushed the door open and went inside, closing it behind him. She sat on the counter, in the same position he’d pleasured her earlier. He tried to clear the image from his mind, to concentrate on the here and now, but he couldn’t dislodge the vision of her back arched in delight or her lips wide as she panted in release.

She sat in silence, her legs dangling above the floor, her hands gripping the edge. There were no tears, yet her eyes held undeniable sadness.

“What’s wrong?”

She shook her head and kept her lips clamped shut.

“Sweetheart, I don’t think Blake minded that you grabbed his johnson.” He stepped closer, moving between her legs.

She let out a defeated laugh, but didn’t speak.

He wiped the stray hair from her face. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know… Everything. Anything. I’m out of my element. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I’m sick of trying.”

“Trying?” He peered into her eyes and wished he could read her thoughts.

“I’m trying not to be anxious and apprehensive. I’m trying not to feel vulnerable and needy. And I’m trying damn hard not to be a burden, but I can’t see a thing, and I don’t want to annoy you.” She wiped her hands over her face and looked in his direction. “But most of all, I’m trying to appear indifferent and act like every second with you doesn’t scare the hell out of me.”

His breath caught in his throat, and he wiped away the lone tear paving a glistening trail down her cheek.

“I’m not used to this, Mitchell. I’m not like you. I’m probably not like anyone you’ve ever met. My life is different…solitary.” Her gaze fell and she hung her head. “I think I should call Kate to come and get me.”

He clutched her to his chest and hushed her words, trying to calm her down. He’d find out what she meant later. Right now he had to stop her thoughts of leaving.

“Do you really want to go?”

Silence.

He placed a finger under her chin and peered into her unfocused eyes.

“Allie?”

She shook her head and swallowed. “No.”

A flicker of hope ignited in his chest, one he’d never experienced before. He held her close for long, silent moments, enjoying the smell of her hair and the pliancy of her body.

“I don’t even have clothes to wear. Or a toothbrush.” She sighed and relaxed into him. “I’m used to taking care of myself. I don’t like being dependent on anyone, especially you.”

He pushed back, gripping her shoulders. “Especially me?”

“You’re famous, and I’m a no-name country girl with issues beyond your imagination. You don’t need me here wasting your time.”

“And what if I want you here? What if I enjoy having you around?”

Her gaze dropped. “Like I said, I’m different. You’re used to spending time with women and forgetting about them the moment you leave. It won’t be the same for me. If I stay, I’ll become attached, and that’s the last thing we both want.”

Having a permanent woman in his life had never been an option. Right now, though, he wanted nothing more than to spend a few more days with Alana. She reached up to lightly stroke his chest, her fingers outlining the different rows of muscles in his pecs and stomach.

Mitch mimicked the simple way her fingers traced around his body, doing the same to her legs. “Why do you keep saying you’re different? You seem normal to me.”

She let out a derisive laugh. “I’ve been cocooned from the world for most of my life.” She spoke slowly, as if choosing her words carefully. “My mother has issues from her past and hasn’t been able to overcome them.” Her fingers dipped to his waist, teasing his hips, making his cock pulse. “She wanted her own world, so I suppose she kind of created one.”

He trailed his fingers higher, to the tops of her thighs. “And this makes you different, how? Lots of people live on farms and rarely get to socialize.” His hands dipped between her thighs, spreading them further apart, and she sucked in a breath.

She let her head fall to his chest and slowly exhaled. “You’re the fourth man to ever touch me.” Her voice was a whisper. “Ever.”

He paused, waiting for an explanation.

“And I’m not just talking about sexually.”

He stopped breathing.

“There’ve been no uncles to play football with, no cousins to chase around the yard, no teachers or coaches to tap me on the shoulder for a job well done. You’re the fourth, Mitchell, and the only man who has ever given me pleasure.”

His heartbeat echoed in his ears, loud enough for the world to hear. He didn’t understand. She had flawless beauty, a natural allure that didn’t need make-up or fancy clothes. Shit, even sleep-deprived and dressed in his baggy T-shirt, she still made him harder than set cement. And yet he was the first man to bring her pleasure? “I don’t get it.”

She slid her hands around his waist, and drew patterns with her fingers on his lower back. “My mother used to live here in Richmond, that’s how I know Kate. Our moms grew up together. And when my mom was in her early twenties she was…” Her fingers paused. “She was attacked by a man.”

Mitch removed his hands from her legs, a sudden wash of disgust pouring over him. He ran his arms around her and held her close, wishing he could take away her pain.

“After it happened, she couldn’t live here anymore and moved to Colorado. She purchased a property with my late grandparents’ money and set up a type of retreat for women recovering from abuse.” Allie hugged him back, resting her cheek against his heart. “Apart from the occasional trip into the city, I haven’t been around other men at all.”

His mind spun. “What about…” He had so many questions and didn’t know where to start. “You said I was the fourth. Who were the others?”

“Experiments.” She chuckled against his chest, and he winced at the sting of jealousy. “By the time I turned twenty-one, I had a lot of questions I wanted answered. Against my mother’s wishes, I went into Colorado Springs a few times and searched for what I thought I was looking for.” She shrugged. “Turns out those men lacked your finesse.”

He clenched his jaw, unable to speak. This woman deserved the world, yet she’d never experienced it? It was unacceptable. Abhorrent.

“It’s not as bad as it sounds.”

He shook his head and wondered how she could say that. She wouldn’t have experienced a childhood crush, a high school dance, or even dating.

“I had contact with the outside world via the phone and internet. I watched movies, read books, surfed the web, and talked in chat rooms. I live a relatively normal life, I suppose. I’m just not used to interaction with men.”

He stepped back, unable to hold her close any longer when the anger at himself had grown into a consuming ball in his chest. She sat up straight, her gaze almost focused directly on his.

“Christ. I’m sorry. You didn’t want to meet me after the gig last night, did you?” He relived the past twelve hours in his mind while he scratched his fingers through his hair. “Fuck. You didn’t want to have that drink with me, and then when I wanted to take you to the optometrist you tried to refuse, and I pressured you.”

“Mitchell, it’s not that—”

“Damn it. I wondered why you flinched at my touch when we first met and why you didn’t want to hang around. All this time I assumed you were shy.” He scrubbed a hand over his forehead, pissed as hell that he’d been narrow-minded to her objections. “Kate even tried warning me this morning, but I didn’t fucking listen.”

“Mitchell.” She pushed from the bench and stumbled forward. He caught her before she corrected herself, and then dropped his hands from her arms, not wanting to make the situation worse.

She stepped into him, grabbed onto his shoulders, and stared at his throat. “Yes, I was scared. But never of you. The thing that alarmed me was how much I enjoyed your touch.” A soft kiss peppered his chin and he closed his eyes. “My mother brought me up believing all men are…” She sighed. “You weren’t what I was expecting. I like you, and those three words are something I never thought I’d have the opportunity to say to a man. So when I tell you I’m trying to fit in and trying not to feel vulnerable and needy and scared, that’s what I mean.”

He gazed down at her, hating himself for pushing her into something she wasn’t prepared for. He couldn’t even find the words to apologize.

“Please touch me, Mitchell. One last time before I leave.”

Squeezing his eyes shut, he fought for control. Fear gripped him by the balls and held tight. Disgust churned in his belly. He wanted to cocoon her in his arms and protect her from the world, just like her mother had done her entire life.

Her hands ran down his sides and under his shirt, her tiny nails scouring a trail up his chest. Christ. He needed to think. His blood burned in his veins, urging him to lift her in his arms and carry her to the bed, but how could he? How could he sink himself into this fragile woman and ignore the fear that he might break her?

“Don’t think. Don’t judge. Just pretend I’m not damaged and make love to me before I go. Please.”

Delicate fingers found his nipples, tweaking, rubbing until he needed to bite his tongue to stay in control. His erection jerked between them, begging for attention. The need to take her built inside him, growing and morphing until he wanted to fall to his knees in surrender.

“Mitchell?” She kissed his neck, trailing her fingers down his chest, over his stomach. Lower. When she gripped his cock, he hissed in a breath and everything inside him snapped.

His lips found hers and one hand cupped her face. He opened the door and shuffled her backward into the bedroom. He devoured her, tasted every part of her mouth, and held her tight to his chest so she couldn’t let go. She whimpered, mewled, the tiny, needy sounds sinking into his soul, her dainty fingers gripping his waist.

He lifted her, hauling her ass into his hands while her legs wrapped around his hips. The heat of her pussy burned through his boxers. Her hands framed his face, keeping their lips meshed as he walked her to the bed.

When his knees hit the side of the mattress, he dropped her, letting her fall back on the soft quilt. Plates clanged and cutlery collided from the other side of the bed. Their breakfast feast still lay there, the food now teetering at odd angles with the weight. And Blake nowhere in sight.

Not taking any chances, Mitch stalked to the bedroom door and found his friend sitting on the sofa, laptop in hand. “I’m closing the fucking door. You so much as touch the handle, and I’ll break your fingers.”

Blake grinned. “No problem. I’ll just put my ear against the wall and listen.”

Mitch clenched his fist and took a threatening step forward.

“I’m joking.” Blake chuckled. “Geez, lighten up.”

Mitch continued to glare as he slammed the door.

In three steps he was on the bed, walking on his knees toward Alana. She rested on her elbows, her eyes gazing unfocused on the quilt beside her. He’d regretted not being able to save her from harm yesterday, but right now his desire to have her looking at him made his chest ache. He needed her to see the emotion in his expression because the thought of putting his feelings into words scared the shit out of him.

His palms began to sweat, and his throat constricted. There was no time to breathe. No time to think. He wanted inside her, and his world would end if he didn’t get there soon. He gripped the waist of his shirt, pulled it off, and threw it to the floor.

Her head turned, following the noise, and when he sat back on his haunches, simply staring at her face, she frowned and blinked back at him.

“Mitchell?”

He moved closer, hating the confusion in her voice. “Yeah, sweetheart?”

“I…I can’t see.” She swallowed and sat up. “I need you to tell me what to do. Show me what to do.”

He shuffled closer until they were an inch apart. “Just touch me.”

Anywhere.

Everywhere.

He picked up her hands and placed them on his chest, one over his heart. Leaning in, he nipped her chin, kissed her neck. “I want you to touch every inch of me.”

Her head fell to the side giving him better access to lick and nip and nuzzle. The tender stroke of her fingers fell down his pecs, waving over each of his ribs, and stopped at the waist of his boxers. His mind screamed for her to go lower, to grip him again and relieve some of his suffering.

“Allie, are you sure you want to do this?” He licked a trail along her collarbone.

“Yes,” she panted. “It’s all I want.” The elastic at his waist lowered. “Just you.”

He helped her remove his boxers, the plates on the bed colliding as he pulled first one leg, then the other free. He sat naked before her, and breathed slowly through the uncertainty. Women usually devoured him with their eyes, their lips, their tongues. He wasn’t used to going without the looks of admiration. He’d never realized the boost they gave his ego.

Alana reached for the bottom of her T-shirt—his T-shirt—and pulled it over her head. He shut his mouth to stop himself from gaping and simply gazed at her, taking in her beauty. She had the most perfect body, just like he expected. Round, pert breasts with dark pink nipples, and a slim waist he couldn’t wait to get his hands on.

“I hope you’re not staring.” She grinned at him as she started to lower the loose boxers and her panties at the same time.

“I’m sorry to disappoint.” His voice went hoarse.

Alana licked her lips, a nervous gesture that had him gripping his cock in an effort to beat back his arousal.

“You’re beautiful.”

Her gaze lowered and her hands came up to run over his shoulders, around his neck. “Kiss me.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. His lips claimed hers, soft at first, then the pressure changed into an uncontrollable urgency. They gripped at one another, their hands roaming each other’s bodies in a frenzy he couldn’t understand and didn’t contemplate. He leaned into her and hugged her close while he lowered her to the pillows.

She lay in his arms, her gaze unfocused around his chin. Her hips pressed into his, the tiny gyrations making his erection rub against her sex. He growled and ran his hand over breasts that begged to be cupped and a waist that yearned to be trailed in kisses. Her fingers rested on his shoulders, their grip becoming tighter the further south he traveled.

When he reached the mound of curls between her thighs, she sucked in a breath. The musk of her arousal lay heady and hypnotic in the air. Later he would taste her, suck her pussy lips into his mouth and feast on her. But now he wanted to touch. He trailed lower, brushed her clit, and smiled to himself when she bucked.

“You mentioned before that no man had ever brought you pleasure.”

She nodded. “Except you.”

“So tell me now, do I make you feel good?”

He ran his index finger through the wet juices of her slit, and she responded with a gasp. He didn’t need her answer to know the truth. She was responsive to his touch. So responsive. Unlike any other woman he’d been with.

“Yes,” she panted, swallowed. “I love how you touch me.”

With teasing slowness he nudged two fingers inside her core, then retreated. He repeated the movement over and over and over again, each time sinking a little deeper until her hands clung to the headboard and she whimpered in need.

He lowered himself down her body, licking a path down her stomach, tasting the salt of her skin. One of her hands clutched his hair, and her fingers gripped the strands tight enough to make his cock jerk. He kissed her curls and swiped her clit with his tongue.

“Oh, god, Mitchell.” Her hips rocked with his strokes, each motion sinking them deeper. The sound of her cries, the suction of her pussy, the heat of her body, drove him wild. He needed to take her. To sink into her. To spend himself in the most enticing woman he’d ever seen.

He twisted and turned his fingers with each withdrawal, hoping to find her sweet spot. At the same time, he sucked her clit into his mouth. Two strokes later he was rewarded with the first spasm of her core.

“Mitchell.” She cried his name and pulled at his hair. He didn’t stop. He worked her harder, flicking and licking the bundle of nerves until her back arched off the bed and she gasped with pleasure. Watching her writhe in orgasm filled him with overpowering emotion. His heart palpitated, his stomach turned, and his throat tightened. He clenched his eyes closed, silently thanking her for the trust she’d gifted him.

Gradually, her body stilled, the only sound between them coming from their frantic breaths.

“Ready for round two?”

She chuckled as he made his way up her body, biting and licking her soft flesh. He couldn’t look into her eyes, not now. Even though she couldn’t see him, he still felt exposed, his heart on his sleeve ready to give to her.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to stop.”

The woman was complete brilliance. Every time she opened her mouth shocked him. “Don’t tell me that or I’ll never let you go.” He grazed his teeth over her breast.

Her lips pressed together in a bashful smile. He reached for the bedside table and retrieved a condom. As he sheathed himself in quick jerks, she ran her nails down his waist, sending goose bumps on a burning trail around his body.

“Mitchell?”

He rested himself between her thighs, nuzzled the base of her neck, and inhaled the lingering scent of her perfume. “Mmm?”

“Can we do this differently?”

He leaned back on his arms and peered down at her. “What do you mean?”

Her throat convulsed with a swallow. “Can I be on top?”

He blinked. Were there twenty-four hours in a day? Hell yes. “I think I can accommodate that.”

Clutching her around the waist, he switched their positions, rolling them to the edge of the king-size bed and away from the clattering plates. She pushed to her knees and hovered the heat of her sex above his erection.

“I’ve never—”

“I know.” He gripped her hips and ground his length along her slit. “It’s OK.”

She rose higher allowing him to position the head of his cock at her entrance. Slowly, she lowered onto him, taking him inch after agonizing inch into her tight pussy. He groaned, gripped the headboard, and closed his eyes. He was done for, completely lost to her perfection.

Her hands rested on his pecs as she began to rise and fall. He ground his teeth together, trying not to let the snug grasp on his shaft drive him over the edge. Each undulation tortured him with undiluted pleasure, inching him closer and closer to completion.

“You’re quiet… Am I doing it wrong?”

Fuck. He was Marcel Marceau, unable to get a word out for fear of losing control. He clenched the headboard tighter, sucked in a breath, and went to his happy place. “So good, Allie. Don’t stop.”

He needed to touch her, to concentrate on what she needed before he blew the whole ballgame. Releasing his talon grip, he opened his eyes and rested his hands on her thighs. Her hips rocked faster at his touch. He slid his hands up her hips, over her waist, and cupped her breasts, teasing her nipples between his fingers.

“Oh, yes.” She ground harder, sharper. Her hands reached up to hold his in place, and she groaned, her pussy milking him, clenching tighter. Plates clattered, bowls tipped, but he didn’t care.

Her teeth bore into her lower lip, and she leaned her head back, riding him like a prized pony. He bucked into her, increasing their pace. “Oh, god, you feel good.” Like fire and silk and heaven.

She touched herself, and he closed his eyes at the erotic image she made. He jerked when her fingers brushed his sac, not expecting the sudden shot of awesome. “Sweetheart, don’t… I’m…I’m almost there.”

A smile tilted her lips but she ignored him and lightly massaged his balls, while the other hand dipped lower to play with her clit.

“Tease.”

She grinned at him, her dimples showing. Damn he wanted that mouth. He sat up, caught her gasp with his lips and sent his tongue in search of hers.

“Ride me,” he demanded with a thrust of his pelvis. The plates on the bed punctuated his movements with a clang.

Her legs moved around his waist and her hands to his face. She sucked on his tongue and complied, her hips retreating then sliding home, retreating then sliding home. He closed his eyes, focusing on nothing but the way her slick heat glided over his cock. When she broke the kiss, panting into his neck, he gripped her ass in both hands and thrust hard.

Her cry filled the room and her back arched, lifting her breasts close to his face. His balls began to tighten with an impending climax he had no hope of controlling. He lowered his head to her chest, drew a nipple into his mouth, and sucked hard.

“Mitchell,” she cried out with release.

His name was the last straw. He groaned, long and loud, jerking up into her body. He ignored the clash of plates and concentrated on Alana. She sank her teeth into his shoulder, and with each pulse of her pussy, the suction from her lips tightened. He rode out the bursts of rapture, holding her against him, sinking his fingers into her hair.

Gradually the pleasure faded, dissipating until his muscles were heavy and lax. She sighed in his arms, the heaving of their chests slowing. He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her head, surveying the wreckage covering the other side of the bed. “I think we may have ruined breakfast.”