Jackson went perfectly rigid at the feel of Mollie’s mouth on his. At the taste of her wine-flavored, soft, full lips.

He let her have control . . . for about five seconds.

And then he devoured her.

Sliding both hands into her short hair, he fisted the blond waves and tugged them back, just roughly enough to make her gasp, and then he plundered her mouth with his.

She gasped, and he took unapologetic advantage, sliding his tongue into her hot mouth.

Fuck. Kissing Mollie was an erotic high he wasn’t sure he’d ever experienced before.

The women he’d slept with in recent months had been physical releases and not much more. Women whose names he couldn’t remember.

And before that, there’d been only Madison.

Madison, who liked to be treated like a princess, unless she was halfway drunk on white wine, in which case he’d always had the sense that she didn’t really care that it was Jackson who was touching her.

But Mollie . . . Mollie knew it was him.

He could feel it in the way her fingers tangled in his hair, in the way her lean body arched against his, slim and wanting. They both knew this was crazy—forbidden, even—and that made it even hotter.

Jackson released her hair, running his hands down her back until he found the zipper of her dress. His fingers hesitated just for a moment, giving both of them a chance to come to their senses.

In response, she pulled his lower lip between her teeth and bit down.

Jackson growled and jerked the zipper down roughly. He placed his palms against Mollie’s back, meaning to slow things down, but the skin-to-skin contact only ignited them.

They moved toward the bed, their mouths never breaking contact as her fingers tore furiously at the buttons of his dress shirt. She tossed his tie to the side and clawed at his shirt.

“Off,” she whispered against his mouth.

He pulled back slightly, feeling a twinge of pain as he maneuvered his shoulder to pull his shirt off. But it was worth it, because his shirt hit the floor at the exact same time Mollie wriggled, sending her red dress pooling at her feet.

Even as his hands itched to reach for her, Jackson could only stare. He didn’t need a reminder that he was seven years older than she was, but he got one as he took in her flawless body.

She was all lean, smooth curves and perfect skin. There were no battle wounds, no extra ripples. She was too good for him. By far.

He ran a hand over his face. Mollie was twenty-eight-year-old perfection, and he felt like a beat-up old man next to her. She couldn’t possibly want—

Mollie stepped forward, setting both hands against his chest, and his breath caught as he saw the reverent expression on her face as her fingertips explored his skin.

He tensed as he waited for the moment when she touched the roughened skin of the scar from his surgery, but she didn’t flinch. She lifted blue eyes to his and then licked her lips.

The want on her face nearly undid him.

He didn’t know what he’d done to deserve this woman’s desire, but no way would he turn it down. Not when his cock felt like it’d tear right through his fucking pants if he didn’t get some relief. Not when he wanted to bend her over the bed, grab that perfect, tight ass in his hands, and—

She dipped her head slightly, pressing her lips against the center of his chest before moving her face to the side. Her mouth grazed his nipple—just slightly, a brief flick of her tongue, but it was enough.

He lifted her up and all but threw her on the bed before launching himself on top of her. His mouth came down on hers hard as she spread her thighs wide, making room for him.

As their tongues tangled, Jackson’s hands moved around to her back, and she arched for him, giving his fingers easy access to the clasp of her strapless bra.

He roughly shoved the bra aside, then forced himself to go slow. To tease them both as he dragged his fingers all over her torso, skating along her ribs, over the slight curve of her waist, up toward her shoulders, and back down again, his fingers flirting with the line of her panties without sliding under.

She pulled her mouth away from his, her breath hot on his cheek. “Damn it, Jackson. You’re killing me.”

“Good.” His lips found hers again, nudging them open so his tongue slid along them at the exact moment he brushed a knuckle over the tip of her breast.

Mollie gasped.

He repeated the motion more slowly, just the slightest touch. Her hips pressed up against his, her long legs coming up to lock around his waist, rubbing the tiny triangle of her thong against the bulge in his pants.

He hissed, then punished her by slowing down his touch even further, pulling back to watch as his knuckle brushed her nipple again and again. Her breasts were small and perfect, her nipples pebbled and hard and begging for his mouth.

He couldn’t deny her. Or himself.

Jackson dipped his head to her, pausing for a long moment, torturing them both before flicking his tongue over the tip of her breast.

She cried out, her hands going to his head. Jackson’s fingers wrapped around her wrists, pinning them on either side of her as his mouth explored her breasts, moving from one to the other with teasing nips before he sucked one nipple into his mouth, rolling it with his tongue as she bucked beneath him.

He shifted his weight slightly, his eyes looking up to her face, loving the way her breath came in hot, desperate pants as he played with her.

Her wrists twisted beneath his grip, and he released her.

Mollie’s hands immediately went for his head, but he dodged her, his head sliding downward before she could tangle her fingers in his hair, until his lips reached the edge of the tiny black thong.

She glanced down at him, her blue eyes dark and wanting. Jackson kept his gaze on hers, giving her a chance to change her mind as he hooked his fingers into the tiny strings at the sides of her hips. He dragged the underwear down, eyes holding hers until the very last minute when he pulled the panties over her feet, pausing only when the thin fabric caught on the high heels of her shoes.

Mollie started to sit up as though to remove the sandals, but he placed a hand on her stomach, pressing her back to the mattress.

“Leave them on,” he said. “I want to picture what you look like naked except for these hot-as-fuck shoes when I do this to you.”

“Do what?” she asked, her voice low and breathy.

In response, he slid his hands up over her calves, hooking his fingers behind her knees and spreading her wide for him.

Jackson trailed his lips up the silky skin of her inner thigh, earning a breathy moan.

He stopped just short of where she needed him, waiting until she opened her eyes and looked down at him. Waited until she met his eyes, wanting her to know exactly who was doing this to her.

Only when her eyes locked on his did he reward her, his tongue extending to taste her with one slow lick.

Her low moan urged him forward, and he licked her again, harder. She was already wet for him, her sweetness rushing over his tongue.

Mollie propped herself up on her elbows unabashedly as she watched him lick her, her flat stomach rising and falling as her breath came in short pants.

Jackson pressed closer, using the widest part of his tongue to circle her.

She cried out, one hand coming down to rest on the top of his head, holding him there as his tongue moved faster, urged on by the nails digging lightly into his scalp.

Her hips pushed against his mouth, and he realized in surprise that she was close, already on the verge of coming apart for him. He brought a hand up to join his mouth, easing a finger inside her tight, wet channel.

It was all she needed to explode, collapsing on the bed, gripping his head now, holding him to her with both hands as the orgasm ripped through her.

Jackson gently eased away from her, pressing soft kisses to the front of her thighs and her stomach as he waited for her to come back to him. Then he moved up higher, propping his elbows on either side of her head as she opened her eyes, which were still half dazed with passion. He smiled slightly and brushed his mouth against hers. “I’ll have you know I was just getting started,” he murmured. “You rushed me.”

She gave a throaty laugh and ran her fingernails along his back. “I think I’ve been waiting a long time for that.”

He narrowed his eyes, wondering exactly what she meant by that, but Mollie refused to let him overthink it, her exploring fingers sliding around to his front and undoing his belt buckle and the button and zipper of his pants with an ease that had him lifting a brow.

“You’re awfully good at that.”

She smirked. “Wait until you see what else I’m good at.”

Then her hand slid downward, and before he registered that she’d freed his cock from his briefs, her hot palm was against him, stroking him with such skill that his eyes nearly rolled back in his head.

“Good Christ,” he muttered, his face dipping into her neck. “I haven’t been this close to coming in a woman’s hand since I was in high school.”

Her grip tightened slightly, her touch harder, as though knowing he liked a rougher touch. Some distant part of his brain registered that he and Mollie instinctively knew each other, knew what would send the other person over the edge, knew just how to touch, how to tease.

He felt his balls tighten, and he swore, his fingers finding her wrist and jerking her hand roughly away from him. “Fuck, you little witch—”

Her mouth fused with his, her free hand shoving at his pants, pushing them down. He helped her as they kissed, but in their current position, he couldn’t get the pants past his hips.

Jackson pulled back to remove the rest of his clothing, but Mollie wrapped her hands around his cock once more, her thumb rolling over the top, and he froze.

She held his eyes as she slowly pulled her knees up so she was wet and open beneath him. She guided him to her, rubbing the tip of his penis against her wet folds, but not letting him in.

Good God. This woman could make a grown man cry.

“I’m on the pill,” she said. “And just had all the usual tests, so if you’re—”

He bit her shoulder. “You should not have told me that.”

“Why—”

Before she could finish her sentence, Jackson had her hands above her head, his fingers manacling her wrists. He thrust inside her without warning, hard, and her back came off the bed as she cried out in surprise.

“Too hard?” he asked, his voice little more than a growl.

She shook her head and rotated her hips. “More.”

No problem there. He could do more. Hell, he could do this forever.

There was nothing better than being inside this woman. Nothing better than her breath hot and fast on his neck or her slim fingers intertwined with his. Nothing better than the way she sighed his name as though it were a prayer.

Even though his brain ordered him to slow down and make it last, his body had other ideas. He quickened his pace, and Mollie adjusted her legs, pulling them higher so that he rubbed against her with each thrust.

She let out a sinful moan. “Yes. There. Like that. Faster.”

Jackson was all too happy to comply, releasing one of her wrists so that his arm could hook around the back of her knee, holding her open as he circled his hips.

Mollie—his beautiful, responsive Mollie—came apart beneath him with a sharp cry as she contracted around his throbbing cock.

He thrust once more, hard, before he came with a roar he didn’t even recognize as his own. Jackson’s free hand clenched in her hair, probably too hard, but he was far beyond rational thought as he emptied himself inside her.

As Jackson’s brain slowly returned to earth, he registered her fingers absently stroking the outside of his hip, her lips lightly brushing against his shoulder, her heart pounding against his chest.

He forced himself to leverage himself upward, looking down into her face as he wrestled with two equally momentous feelings.

One: it had quite possibly been the hottest, most necessary sex of his life.

Two: it had happened with Mollie.

Mollie.

She gave him a bittersweet smile, as though reading his thoughts. “Want to make a pact to not talk about it until tomorrow?”

He pulled a strand of hair off her face where it had stuck to her lips. “I’ll take you up on that.”

Jackson shifted to his side, pulling her back against his front, marveling at the way her long body lined up perfectly with his.

She brought his hand to her lips and kissed his fingers before folding his hand in hers and tucking it under her chin.

True to their pact, neither said a word about what had just transpired.

But they thought about it. Long, long into the night.