Cherry arched into Ruben’s powerful body, the press of her nakedness against his clothes strangely erotic. His kiss was hard and unrefined, his hands roaming over her body as if he’d never felt it before, grabbing at her arse, her thighs, her belly, her breasts. As if he were hungry. As if he were desperate.

But slowly, gradually, something changed. Shifted. His kiss softened, his tongue sliding over her lips as if he were tasting her, savouring her. He slid a hand into her hair, angling her head back until the line of her throat was exposed. When he dragged his lips down that sensitive column until his mouth settled over her pulse, she felt his hot tongue as if it were between her legs.

Then he kissed lower, trailing over her chest. He pushed one of her breasts up towards his face and sucked the aching nipple into his mouth. She moaned, the sound ragged and uncontrolled, and he looked up at her with that infuriatingly sexy smile in place, completely at odds with the lust in his eyes. “I like it when you moan for me,” he growled. He caught her other nipple between finger and thumb, rolling the tight nub. “You like this, my love?”

“You know I do,” she panted.

“But I want to hear you say it. I need to hear you say it.” Before she could think about that too hard, he pulled her nipple into his mouth again, suckling her, each pull somehow tugging at her clit at well as her breast. Fuck.

His hand slid down her body, tracing the contours of her waist, her hips, as if he couldn’t stop touching her. As if he had to remind himself that she was still there, that she was real. The feather-light touch of his fingers felt like the sweetest torture, an electric charge ratcheting up with every second, skating across her nerve-endings.

Then, as suddenly as he’d started his erotic torture, he pulled away. Her eyes slid open to find him staring down at her, his jaw set, something dangerous in his dark gaze. “Come here,” he said, and the command in his voice sent a thrill through her. He settled a hand against the back of her neck, led her to face the love seat they’d just left.

“On your knees,” he ordered, his voice sharp as a whip.

She knelt on the plush, velvet cushions, her hands settling automatically on the love seat’s high back.

He stood behind her and reached between her thighs, his big hand cupping her, warm and intimate. Then he bent over her and whispered in her ear, “Spread your legs, love. As wide as you can. I want to see everything.”

Cherry shivered as his breath skated over the sensitive skin just below her earlobe, as his hand cupped her firmly, intimately. The touch was so casual and yet so complete, as if the space between her legs was his to use as he wished.

She had given him this. She’d given him control. And he knew how to use it.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice so deep, so rough, almost a growl. The only indication that he was losing it, just like she was. She liked the idea of them both unravelling together. If he felt the way she did right now…

She felt the slide of his shirt against her back as he sank to his knees behind her. Then the hand between her legs disappeared, leaving her oddly cold. A second later, she felt it again, pushing her forwards this time, so that her breasts pressed against the back of the love seat. And now, on her knees, her legs spread wide, her body arched like a bow, she was completely exposed.

She could feel her folds parting, her hot, wet entrance sensitive to the cool air. Her breath stuttered and her heart pounded as anticipation rose. Raw desire suffocated her like sultry heat on the hottest summer day.

His voice was hoarse when he said, “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

She swallowed. Tried not to strain towards the source of that sound—towards his mouth, the mouth that she already knew was capable of wonderful things.

Fuck, what she wouldn’t give for his tongue right now.

“So pretty,” he whispered. She could feel his breath against her pussy, and she was so desperate for him that the warm, barely-there air felt like a touch. Then he said, “I want to see your cunt stretched out around my cock.”

She moaned.

“And you do too,” he said. She could hear the smirk in his voice. His fingers, long and thick and rough, traced her folds, so light she barely felt it. “You’re so wet, you’re dripping. Did you know that, love?” He pressed a kiss to the small of her back, then another, lower, and another. Creating a burning trail down her spine. He spread her arse with both hands and kept going, his lips brushing along the sensitive cleft.

And then, all of a sudden, he disappeared.

Cherry couldn’t stop herself from growling out her protest, the sound mindless and raw. He laughed. “Don’t worry love. I’m coming back.”

She fucking hated him. Almost as much as she wanted him. If he didn’t fuck her soon, she’d hate him more.

But every moment of torture drove her higher, tightening the knot of desire at her core, increasing the need that coursed through her body.

When he came back, he’d changed his position, turned around. He must be sitting on the floor, because he slid his face between her thighs and she felt the soft brush of his hair against her clit, like a whisper, his breath against her entrance.

She almost screamed when his tongue slid over her folds, broad and hot and so fucking good. Her clit ached, but he didn’t touch it. Instead, he lapped at her entrance, growling low in the back of his throat. “I love the way you taste,” he murmured. “You’re always so wet for me, sweetheart. You’re perfect. You’re so fucking perfect.” He licked her again, then eased his fingers into her pussy, parting her swollen, sensitive folds. And finally, finally, his tongue flicked at her clit.

Again and again he licked the tight little bud, his fingers fucking her harder as she opened up to him. Cherry threw her head back and dug her fingers into the love seat and rolled her hips against his tongue, riding his face, fucking herself back on his hand, unable to care about anything but the delicious sensations he created between her thighs.

He worked her swollen, fevered flesh until it became almost unbearable, her clit breathlessly sensitive, and her hips bucked away from the rapid, unyielding rhythm of his tongue. He wrapped an arm around her, pinned her to him, fucked her harder, licked her faster, until she shattered. Completely, utterly, helplessly.

Her cries rang out in the little room, almost loud enough to bring her to her senses—but not quite. Because he kept licking, kept stroking, and the pleasure swelled like waves crashing against the shore. By the time he let her go and eased back, Cherry was shattered.

She sighed and let her head fall forward as he slid out from between her thighs. Exhaustion and satiation created a heady cocktail.

But then she felt the cushions shift slightly as he covered her body with his own. She looked down to see him sink his foot into the love seat beside her knee, his powerful thigh, thick and dusted with dark hair, bracketing her body. His arm snaked over her torso like an iron band, holding her steady, his hand grabbing hold of her breast. His other hand came to rest beside hers on the back of the love seat. His lips pressed against her neck, his chest warmed her back, and his hard cock pressed against her entrance.

Fuck.

His voice rumbled low in her ear. “Put me inside you.”

She closed her eyes, biting down back the whimper those four words teased out of her.

Ruben kissed the sensitive spot beneath her earlobe, his tongue flicking out to tease her skin. Then he said, “I know how desperate you are to be fucked, love. I’ll give it to you. I know what you need. But I want you to put my cock inside your pretty cunt, to feel the way I stretch you wide. I want you to touch yourself, to touch me, and know how your pussy feels when it’s filled with my cock. So don’t make me tell you twice.”

Cherry released a shuddering breath. “I think I hate you.”

“Hate me all you want, as long as you come for me.”

With a moan, she reached between her legs and found the thick, pulsing length of his shaft, the condom tight and slick over his skin. And then she guided him into her aching pussy, unable to hold back her little, whimpering sighs.

He pressed into her with searing heat, slow and steady and fucking perfect. His cock filled her, inch by delicious inch, the slick friction almost unbearably good. Ruben sank into her with the same fucking focus he used to lick her to orgasm, the same focus he used to kiss her senseless. By the time she felt the velvet nudge of his balls against her clit, he was so fucking deep she could barely draw breath. Even the slightest movement sent sparks of pleasure straight to her core.

Then he kissed the back of her neck, and the strong arm holding her up tightened almost imperceptibly, and he whispered her name as if it was a prayer, his voice broken. “God,” he breathed raggedly. “I—I need you so fucking much.”

“You have me.”

“Do I?” He pulled back, moaning at the slow slide. “Fuck. You’re unbelievable. I knew as soon as I saw you. I knew you were mine.”

He thrust into her and Cherry’s mind scrambled, all her focus stolen by the rising crest of pleasure within her. “Ruben. More.”

He took her hand and pushed it between her legs. “Play with yourself. Come on my cock.” She rubbed her clit in rough, desperate circles and he hissed, thrusting into her again, harder this time. “Good girl. Good fucking girl. Jesus Christ, I can feel you tightening on my dick—“ He broke off with a groan, and his grip on her breast became savage. His other hand clutched the back of the love seat so hard his knuckles whitened.

And then he really fucked her. Harder than anyone ever had, harder than she even thought she could take.

He grunted over her with each powerful thrust, his cock spearing into her, forcing her to open up for him. She spread her legs wider, arched beneath him, welcomed each ferocious pump of his hips with a mindless cry. Her fingers circled her clit frantically, and her second orgasm hit harder than even she’d expected.

She moaned helplessly beneath him as he fucked her through every shudder, the love seat, heavy though it was, edging across the floor with the force of his movements.

“God, you feel so fucking good,” he panted, his voice almost unrecognisable, he was so close to the edge. “Look at me. Look at me.”

Cherry’s eyes had slid shut under the sensual force of his touch, but she turned her head and opened them to meet his gaze. His eyes were inky in the shadows, his features harsh with lust. He kissed her, hard and rough, his unrestrained thrusts setting her aflame even as his tongue plundered her mouth.

Cherry gasped against him as another orgasm shook her, and he growled deep in his chest, tearing his lips from hers. “Fuck,” he rasped out, his thrusts stuttering, his breath ragged. “Fuck, I—“

His words turned into a harsh cry as he came, holding her tight against his chest. He sank his teeth into her shoulder as his cock jerked inside her, his hips bucking.

Then he stilled, the tension draining from his muscles. His hold on her gentled, became almost protective as he released a long, shuddering breath. He kissed her shoulder, brushing his lips over the skin he’d bitten.

“Holy fuck,” he sighed.

Cherry slumped against the back of the love seat, still on her knees, their bodies still joined, his skin still hot against hers.

He pressed a kiss to the side of her face. “You okay, love?”

She forced her eyes open, even though exhaustion had settled over her like a blanket some time in the last few seconds. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’m good. I’m great.”

He grinned. Just like that, he went from the man who’d just fucked her senseless to the man she…

Well. She wasn’t sure how to finish that sentence. She just knew that the sight of his smile did things to her heart, set butterflies free in her stomach, and made her want to kiss him. On the nose. And call him baby or sweetheart are something equally embarrassing.

Oh, dear. She was very far gone. And so well-fucked, she didn’t even care.

He pressed his lips to hers, achingly gentle, then pulled back and whispered, “I like the way you’re looking at me right now.”

She laughed. “That’s funny. I like the way you’re looking at me.”

“Good.” He kissed her again, soft and almost reverent. She couldn’t ignore the way her heart swelled in response, seeming twice its usual size and inexplicably lighter, all at once.

Then he shifted his weight and pulled out of her, looking down between their bodies…

And his face changed. Was wiped blank. Completely emotionless. Everything about him stiffened, pulled away from her, even though he hadn’t moved at all.

“What?” She asked, anxiety skittering along her spine. Suddenly, the air around them felt cool and unwelcoming. She became hyper-conscious of her nakedness, of the vulnerability of her position. “What is it?”

And he said, his gaze still fixed on something she couldn’t see, “It broke.”

Cherry frowned, confused. “What broke?”

“The condom,” he choked out. “It fucking broke.” He stood up all at once, as if he couldn’t bear to touch her.

Cherry stood too, turning around just in time to catch a glimpse of his face. He looked pale, horrified, as if he were going to be sick. His chest rose and fell as he dragged in air, his breathing becoming a series of heaving pants.

“Ruben,” she said, keeping her voice as even as possible. “You need to calm down. Okay? Just breathe.”

When he didn’t respond, she reached out to touch him, to soothe him. He flinched away as if she were on fire.

The movement, tiny as it was, felt like a punch in the face. Cherry let her hand drop, her heart falling with it. Then she hardened her jaw and lifted her chin and turned away. She needed some clothes. Immediately.

“Wait, Cherry—I’m sorry.” His voice sounded like an echo of itself, weak and carried by those anxious, dragged-in breaths. “I’m sorry. I just—“

“What the fuck?” She demanded, whirling around to face him, her temper appearing out of nowhere. “So it broke. Why are you so…” She gestured helplessly at his face, twisted in misery, the sheen of sweat on his brow. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

He frowned as if she’d spoken another language. “What do you mean?”

“Do you… have something?”

It took him a second to figure out what she was talking about. “Jesus, no. I would’ve told you. I mean, I would’ve—”

“Do you think I have something?”

“No,” he said, his voice firmer, closer to its usual self. He reached out to grab her wrist, but she jerked away. Because she couldn’t erase the look on his face, the way he’d avoided her touch. As if he were disgusted. “Cherry,” he said, and now he had the fucking nerve to look upset. “It’s nothing to do with you. I just… I can’t get you pregnant.”

Oh, Christ. Where the fuck were her clothes?

She stormed around the sofa and found her damned Dolly Parton T-shirt lying by a bookshelf. Her underwear was a lost cause, but the T-shirt was just long enough to cover the important parts. If she tugged down the hem and held it there with one hand. Which was exactly how she wanted to continue this conversation. Great. Fucking great.

“Cherry,” he sighed, as if she were being unreasonable. “You have to understand—I mean, what would we do? If there was a baby? We couldn’t just separate. I’d have to—“

“You’d have to marry me,” she finished. “God for-fucking-bid.” And where the hell had that come from? She didn’t want to marry him anyway. This was a business deal. A contractual agreement. But it was her fault for allowing lines to be blurred, for getting carried away. She should’ve used her new-found riches to invest in a better vibrator instead.

“No,” Ruben insisted. “That’s not what I meant. I was going to say I’d have to… I don’t know. I don’t fucking know.” His tone became gentle, apologetic, as if he were breaking her Goddamn heart when he said, “I can’t handle kids, Cherry.”

“No-one was asking you to,” she snapped. “I’m on the pill, by the way. So don’t worry. Nothing will get in the way of you dropping me once our time is up.”

“That’s not what I meant,” he said again, and now he sounded angry. Him! Angry! She’d laugh at his fucking audacity if she weren’t so bloody furious. “I panicked,” he gritted out. “It was a reflex. And I’m sorry. I’ve never… I’ve never been in this position before.”

“Right,” she said, giving him her sweetest smile, her most reasonable tone. “Because I fake engagements with foreign fucking royalty every other week.”

“I’m not talking about the engagement. I’m, talking about…” He gestured wildly between them, something bright and dangerous and uncontrolled in his eyes. “This! Us!”

“Us?” She forced herself to laugh, as if she was truly amused. As if she hadn’t a care in the fucking world. “You sound like a child, Ruben. We had sex. That doesn’t mean there’s an us.”

His jaw tightened. “Don’t fucking do that.”

“Oh, is that an order?”

“Cherry.”

“Ruben. Let me make something clear: I am not here to trap you. In fact, you trapped me. And it may be news to you that not every woman on earth wants to carry your royal fucking babies—“

“Cherry—“

“But they don’t! Okay? I don’t! What do you think I am, desperate? Like I’d chase a man who doesn’t want me? Who the fuck do you think I am?”

He ran a hand through his hair, his expression almost helpless. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” she said. “Because I’m not doing this again. Not with you. Clearly we need to keep things as uncomplicated as possible. But it’ll be a long fucking year without some dick to pass the time.”

He flinched as if she’d hit him. But he didn’t stop her as she marched past him and out into the hall.

And Cherry almost convinced herself that she didn’t care.