It’s as if lightning has struck me blind, my vision going a searing white color as Dylan’s mouth demandingly presses against mine.

I’ve dreamed for so many nights of this moment, my senses filled with the hot scent of him. Memories rush me: our first, explosive kiss, the first time his body was crushed to mine and I felt every single one of his hard muscles against my softness. I felt so weak and ecstatic in his embrace, and now, as my mind starts to clear, the reality of what is happening captures me.

Dylan, kissing me as if the world is ending, his mouth wet, commanding, and wonderful as my body presses against his. He’s hard everywhere, and as I sway on my feet, he holds me tightly, fiercely. His lips are insistent as he sucks at me, drawing out every single frightened and excited emotion from my very soul. My core is on fire for him, beating, going liquid with lava that flows through me, down to my pussy, which gushes with warmth and need.

He wraps his fingers in my hair and expertly runs his tongue between my lips. Then he tilts my head back until our chins are pressed together and he’s looking down at me with those stormy gray eyes. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

I think I do know, because I’m feeling what he does to me. And as we look into each other’s eyes, I see what he has to be seeing: Kiss me again, dammit…explore every inch of me…lock me up until I’m crying your name over and over again…

With a growl, he sweeps me around, bumping us into the chairs near his kitchen table as he brings me into another burning kiss. In our fervor, we grope at each other, going at each other like animals, and I can’t catch my breath. It doesn’t seem like I’ll ever be able to breathe again, and I don’t care. I’d like to die in his arms. I am dying.

When he pulls at my dress, I can’t get it off fast enough. My hands flail while his are sure and steady—he acts like he knows just what he needs and I’m the only one who can ever give it to him. He knows what I need, too—he always did—and after he tosses away my dress and tears off my bra, I excitedly stumble backward. I hit the table, grasping at it because it’s the only thing that’s keeping me standing.

Then he’s looking at me, his eyes going hazy as he runs his gaze from my face down to my bare chest. I still can’t breathe. I can’t exist without him. And from the way he’s looking at me with such a famished, predatory gaze, I know that he’s remembering all those summer nights when we were together, when there was nothing between us except an uncertain future.

Now there’s no future at all, but I still want him with every violent pound of my body. My nipples are sensitive and beaded into pained nubs. I’m so wet for him that I can feel my juices bathing my inner thighs.

As his gaze travels over my stomach to my panties, I know he can see the cream glistening over my skin.

“Fuck,” he grits. “Do you get this wet whenever you think of me?”

I don’t know what to say, because, yes—every time I think of Dylan, I get this way: desperate, needful, so worked up that I don’t think I can stand another minute of my pulsating clit and the feverish ache that’s spreading through me like sweet poison.

He takes a step toward me with his fists clenched by his sides. Those dragon tattoos that wind over his torso seem to seethe with the same craving that I feel. One of them isn’t as intricate as the other, and I wonder if it’s homemade, from prison.

“Tell me, Samara. How fucking wet do you get whenever you think of me?”

It’s beyond me to lie to him—not about this. “Every time I think of you, I get crazy, Dylan. It’s been like this for years.”

His gaze hardens. Is he remembering that I had a husband? Anger and betrayed confusion seem to come together in Dylan’s gray eyes, and I grasp behind me for something to hold onto, because I know what’s coming: he’s going to make me come, maybe to punish me, maybe to take what has always belonged to him back. He’s going to get me off hard and fast, and I can’t wait another second.

A low rumble emanates from him, and when he springs like a predator, I suck in a sharp breath. He turns me around, and I grip the top of the chair as he leans down and growls into my ear.

“I’m going to see how drenched you are for me. You don’t know how many nights I fantasized about your pussy, baby.”

I’m on the edge of begging, pleading for him to just do it, but as he slides his hand into the back of my panties, over the curve of my bottom, I can’t say a damned word. All I can do is choke, making a tiny, frightened, rapturous sound. I’m his willing prey, and I’m only getting wetter as he slips his long, skilled fingers between my legs to stroke me.

“So fucking wet,” he murmurs. “So fucking mine.”

The sound of my harsh breathing fills the room, mixing with his own choppy breaths that stir my hair as he presses his mouth against my neck. He keeps slicking his fingers through my slit, and I hear my juices stirring. I get lost in an erotic haze, my knees starting to go weaker, my legs starting to wobble. He’s holding me up, his arm braced over my belly as his other hand strums my pussy, spreading my cream around. He teases my clit, and on a soft cry, I slump forward, totally boneless as he keeps on going.

“Tell me how badly you want me to fuck you, baby.”

I bite my lip. Doesn’t he know that he’s reducing me to a puddle? I’m all heat and need.

“Fucking tell me,” he growls.

As he keeps working me, I can only whimper, and another low sound of frustration and yearning rumbles through his chest, traveling through my skin as he presses into my back. When he takes his wet hand and slides it over my waist and to my breast, I groan. He fondles me with slick caresses, spreading my cream over my nipple and circling it with ravenous pressure. My clit is so hot and swollen and pained that I can only make more soft, imploring sounds.

“Do you like it dirty these days?” he says.

“I —”

“Are you my good girl or a bad one? Tell me which one you are and exactly why you came here.”

I’m whatever he wants me to be, his plaything, his darling little toy that he can do anything with. But I don’t know what he wants from me. Dylan was never like this before, but his aggression and darkness are turning me on like hell.

He slips his other hand up to my other breast, expertly kneading me. I’m so agitated that I start rubbing my bottom up against his stiff, huge cock. Now he’s the one who groans, and I take warped satisfaction out of that.

“You little fucking devil,” he says. “You became a real tease while I was gone, didn’t you?”

Before I know it, he whips me around, scooping me against him to ravish me with another furious kiss. I’m breathless again, pushing back at him before I pass out, but there’s one final gasp left in me, and I haul it in as he suddenly lifts me up and sits me onto his kitchen table. He swipes out an arm to clear a bunch of files that are sitting on the surface, and everything scatters through the air, papers catching the wind and sifting down. I feel the same weightless suspension inside of me as I look into his savage gaze again.

“Just look at you,” he whispers raggedly. “Such damned temptation…”

The jagged hunger in his voice undoes me, and as the rest of the papers finally land on the floor, I slowly lean back on the table, inviting him to take what he wants. I belong to him, and I always did. I don’t want to think about what’s going to happen after I leave him, because all that exists is here and now.

My Dylan…

He pulls me by the hips toward him, and as I bite my lip, he makes another guttural sound, then bends to latch his mouth onto my breast. As I wrap my legs around his hips, piercing joy fills me up as he sucks at me fiercely. He makes famished sounds as he laves his tongue around me, bringing me to an excruciating arousal that only has my pussy beating and twisting. I wind my fingers through his hair, tugging and pulling at it as I urge him on with hot whispers.

“Please, Dylan… Oh, God, keep going…”

He gnaws at my breast, circles it again with his tongue, and looks up at me. The storm in his eyes is about to break. “Please what?”

I don’t know what to say. I’ve never begged him before. I’ve never had to. But this is a different, darker, very dangerous Dylan. And with a cruel smile, he lowers his head again. He brings my other nipple into his mouth and then slowly sucks it. As I squirm, he makes his way from my aching tits to the center of my stomach, lifting my hips and kissing his way over my belly. Vibrating through and through, I arch against his mouth, seeking to be destroyed. With a muttered curse, he rips off my panties, hooks his arms under my thighs, and with one more lethal look at me, buries his face against my bare pussy.

At the overwhelming contact, I rock against him, asking for more, even though he’s giving me everything. He licks his way up my slit, then pauses to breathe on me. In that one moment, I want to scream and shout for him to go on. But it’s as if the taste of me has resurrected sharp, painful memories for him, and he digs his fingers into my thighs. He nuzzles me, and when he breathes me in, I slam a fist on the table at the sheer naughtiness of what he’s doing.

I can feel him laugh against my pussy, then he’s kissing me again, faster, harder, wildly, as if he’s going to devour me. I churn my hips, egging him on.

“Yes,” I wince. “Oh, yes…”

He uses his fingers to part my sopping lips. He looks at me again, and I wiggle my hips in ecstasy.

I fist my hand in his hair, pulling at it, and the beast in him comes out full force as his gaze heats up to a temperature I’ve never seen before.

My impatience has pushed a button in him, and he snarls, then dives back down between my thighs. He kisses me so thoroughly, so hotly that when I close my eyes all I see is white lightning on the backs of my eyelids. I get lost in the way he tongues my clit, teasing it with little, cruel flicks. He sucks on my drenched lips, toying with each one and then kissing me deeply again and opening me up with sucking, hungry sounds. When he slips his tongue inside of me to fuck me that way, I’m a melting, sloppy mess. It only gets worse when he adds the play of his fingers on my clit, rubbing my wicked bundle of nerves until, with a bolt that comes out of nowhere, I crash apart inside, coming like a flash storm and yelling out his name.

In my haze, I see his face. He’s still frenzied, but he likes what he’s doing to me, torturing me, giving me a ration of hell for leaving him for another man while he was locked away.

On another, deeper growl, he pulls me upright and toward him. My buzzing, thumping pussy comes up against his cock. Underneath the fly of his jeans, I can feel his hard tip, feel how big and ready he is to take me.

I gyrate against him, asking him to get inside me without actually saying anything. I don’t think I have a voice anymore. I barely have a mind.

He moves his hips, mercilessly teasing me, his head grinding against my clit.

“How badly did you miss this?”

“Bad. So bad.” I can’t look away from his wild gaze. I’m in his thrall, and I don’t want to run. I don’t want to hide. I just want him to fill me up with everything he has.

He keeps working my clit with his hard tip, titillating me. I lean back my head, on the verge of collapsing again. I expect him to go animal on me once more, but when I feel him run his palm up my belly then up through the center of my breasts to lightly grip the base of my throat, all I can do is swallow. He squeezes lightly, and a forceful tug of lust nearly pulls me apart.

I open my eyes to see the anger in him, the turbulence. He knows that he can never really have me, but that’s not going to stop him.

“Dylan…”

My voice is soft, filled with all the emotion that never died for him. Something seems to break apart in his gaze, and he bares his teeth. Then, on a surge of possession, he scoops me up again. My head swims as he carries me away, and the next thing I know, I’m on a bed, naked and vulnerable, waiting for him to come get me. He goes to a table, yanks open the drawer, and reaches inside. He comes out with a condom.

I writhe on the mattress, unable to stand another moment without him. He takes off his jeans, and when he stands before me in all his bare glory, everything inside me brutally contracts, and I grasp at the bedspread. I wail like a shameless wild thing, suddenly coming for him again.

Just from one look at him.

Just from wanting him so bad.

As I drift down from yet another high, I gaze at him through my eyelashes. His every muscle is defined, huge and powerful. His tanned skin glistens. The sexy indentations where his hips meet his ass make my mouth water. And when I lay eyes on that enormous, throbbing cock of his, I lose all composure.

“Just have me, Dylan,” I whisper. “Please have me.”

As his chest rises and falls, he gets onto the bed. He towers over me, and I can’t resist the temptation to reach out and touch his beautiful cock. He groans, tormented, so needful that I feel it straight to my core.

He tears into the condom’s wrapping, and then slips the rubber over his stiff dick. It bobs with every pulse of his blood, and he crawls toward me, then gently pushes open my thighs. He looks at my pussy with a longing that stuns me.

“Baby…”

As he slips his fingers between my legs, I suck in an agitated breath. It trembles, just like I’m trembling inside, slowly going insane. And when he eases his fingers into me, opening me up, I shift around on the bed. It’s been such a long time, and I’m not just talking about sex itself. It’s been forever since Dylan, and that’s all that matters.

He lazily moves in and out of me, never drawing his gaze away from mine as he deliciously finger bangs me, pumping my juices, making me feel even fuller, more swollen with hot, pulsing blood. “I wasn’t about to take you right there on the table,” he whispers. “I want this to be right, even though there’s a fucking lot between us that’s wrong.”

“This is right,” I say. “Make it right, Dylan. Please.”

He suddenly pulls me to him, and I feel the tip of his cock against my entrance, waiting to come in. I squirm against him so restlessly that he sucks in a breath. Is it possible that this rough man, this ex-con, has some deep emotion left in him?

It’s as if he doesn’t want me to even think it, and his mouth tightens. His eyes fill with betrayal again, and he tugs me even closer. Just as I take another breath, he reaches down to my pussy again, opening my lips. Then he rubs his tip through me, ruthlessly teasing me.

I moan restlessly.

He does it again, and just as I’m about to scream, he thrusts into me, going so deep that I gasp.

He fills me completely—my Dylan, my world. He’s everything that has left me empty these past five years. And when he starts moving inside of me, I dig my nails into his thick arms, wanting every bit of him, not willing to let him go. Not again, not ever.

As he speeds up his thrusts—faster, harder—everything becomes a swirl of whipping wind and dark clouds that rumble with thunder. I feel flashes of lightning darting around inside of me, flirting with the vibrating air. I feel Dylan’s cock going deeper, deeper as I hear our sweaty skin slapping together, the sound of him fucking me as he goes balls deep and lifts me off the bed. I heave in more desperate breaths, my voice sounding detached as I murmur out pleas.

Keep fucking me forever…keep going…

Harder…faster… Pressure builds up inside of me. It’s like the storm has been bottled up, so contained that it’s bound to break out, shattering and destroying me. The anticipation of that is almost too much as Dylan curses and lifts me up to him so that he can go even deeper, hitting that special, soft little place that no one else has ever found but him.

Every time he hits it I say his name. “Dylan…Dylan…DYLAN…”

The dark thunderheads swarm me, pressing in on me with such force that I have no choice but to give in. As he hits that tight spot one more time, I explode for him, coming with a storm of cries in his name. I weep and clutch at him, and now that I’ve broken apart for him, he breaks, too, spilling into me with such brute force that it’s as if I’ve been torn apart limb from limb, cell from cell.

But as I come down from this, I realize that my craving for him has only started.

He collapses against me, his skin against my hot skin, and I know that this has to be the beginning of something more, rather than the end…