It was the only thing he could think of that would keep her from him. That would have made her send him a fake photo. There was nothing else he could imagine that would keep him from claiming her. From loving her. From spending the rest of his life with her.

But the moment the question was out of his mouth, the horror in her eyes revealed the truth. “What? No!”

Relief shot through him with such force that he reached up to rub the place where it pooled in his chest. Thank Christ. Everything else could be managed.

“Is there another man?” He forced the question out, even as he wondered how he would handle the idea of another man touching her. Kissing her. Knowing the feel of her skin, the taste of her.

Roux had always thought women should have sex when they wanted and with whomever they wanted, but his enlightenment was now AWOL and he was ready to go ten rounds with any man who even looked at Abby. She was his. And if that made him a fucking Neanderthal, it made him a fucking Neanderthal. There were worse ideas than tossing her over his shoulder and taking her to bed for a lifetime.

And, like that, he was hard again.

“N—no,” she stuttered, and he heard the truth there. Believed it even before she repeated herself. “No. Roux. No. There is no one else.”

“Is it the Army? I can see that. Seven tours—” He’d seen what combat did to men. He’d seen what it had done to him. But he used psych services and he would never hurt her—she had to know that—

“What?” She came up on her knees then, clutching the blanket to herself and cutting him off. “No. Roux. It’s not. It’s not you. How could it be you? You’re…” She waved a hand at him. “I mean…you’re incredible.”

When she looked at him like that, flushed and perfect, with those wide brown eyes and those soft lips and all that beautiful hair, and she spoke with that breathy urgency, she made him feel incredible. She made him feel like a fucking god.

“Then what? Why don’t you want this?” The words ached in his chest. He’d do anything for her. This goddess of a woman. Anything to keep her. Anything to make her happy.

He’d been alone so long, and Abby—she felt like home. She had since that first letter. He wasn’t sure he could give her up now that he’d had a taste of it.

She looked down at her lap. “I do. Roux. I do. I want it so much.”

The words were full of need—the same need he was feeling. He turned to face her, loving the way her gaze raked over his chest. She swallowed, the little movement in her throat making him want to kiss her until they were both breathless.

She wanted him. He could see it in the color on her cheeks. He could hear it in her shallow breaths. Her heart was racing. Just as his was.

She met his eyes, this woman he loved beyond reason, but for some reason couldn’t have. “Then why?”

She shook her head. “Because men like you…you don’t end up with girls like me.”

What did that mean?

When he asked her, she looked down at the comforter, unable to meet his gaze. “Don’t make me say it.”

It was his turn to shake his head. “You’re gon’ have to say it because as far as I’m concerned, there isn’t another woman on Earth I intend to end up with. It’s you or nothing.”

Her eyes went wide, and pleasure shot through him. She liked it when he laid claim to her? He could do that all day. He was just about to when she reached for him, her fingers trailing over his chest, sliding over his tattoos. “You are—” She hesitated, her voice filled with awe. “You are so beautiful.”

She made him feel beautiful. When he spoke, emotion shredded the words, bringing them out like gravel. “Nah, cher. I’m all scars and marks.”

She ignored him. “You are, though. You’re so beautiful and I’m…” She trailed off and shook her head. “Not.”

Understanding flared, almost incomprehensible. Stealing his breath. Holy shit. Holy shit. She thought she wasn’t beautiful? “Abby.” She didn’t look at him. “Abigail.” She met his gaze, her eyes like heaven, stealing his breath. “When you sent me those pictures, the ones of—your sister, I’m guessing?”

She nodded. “I didn’t mean to send the second one. The one with me.”

He wasn’t letting her out of this bed until she understood how fucking perfect she was. “Well, that’s a damn shame, cher, because that was the one that made me hard as steel.” He moved then, pushing her back on the bed, caging her in his arms. “That was the one that stole my breath.” He pressed a kiss to the place where her neck and shoulder met, feeling her wild pulse there. “That was the one that stole my heart.”

She blushed. “Roux.”

He kissed her. Quick and deep. Released her, her sigh rioting through him as he slid the blanket from her fingers, tossing it away. “Shh. I’m telling you something, béb.” She blinked. He nodded, unable to look away from her gorgeous curves, soft and welcoming. “Bon. Now. I had to put those pictures away, sweetheart.”

Unable to stop himself, he crawled over her until she was lying back on the bed.

“Because every time I thought about that beautiful brunette…” He took her lips again, long and slow. “Every time I though about you…I got hard.” He pressed against her, loving her gasp. “Hard like this. Aching like this. Desperate to feel her underneath me. Wanting to taste her. To lick her.”

Her thighs opened like heaven, and he settled between them.

“To taste you,” he whispered at her ear. She whimpered. He could get used to that sound. “I wanted to eat your pussy for days, cher.”

She panted in his ear, arching up to him.

He lifted himself up, the hardest thing he’d ever done, made harder when she sighed his name.

He licked along the soft skin of her jaw. “You wan’ that, too, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

She was killing him. But he had things to say. “I wanted it to be you, beautiful. I wanted it to be your pretty pink paper and your pretty pink skin and your pretty brown eyes and your—” He paused, rocking into her until they both groaned with pleasure. “Fucking gorgeous body. I was hard for you, Abby. And when I came in the desert, hot and hard and desperate, I was thinking of you.”

She exhaled, the breath shaking from her, and then she confessed. “I wanted it to be me.”

He kissed her shoulder, running his tongue down her skin to the hard, tight tip of one breast, suckling the way he’d already learned she loved. Licking over her puckered skin and drawing deep, making them both shake with pleasure. “It was you,” he whispered, sinking lower, licking over the stunning, soft curves of her, tasting her skin. “It was this body.”

How could she not see how gorgeous she was?

He’d just have to show her. Every day. Forever.

“These thighs…” He was spreading those beautiful thighs, kissing them, rubbing his beard along all that precious, soft skin, until she was panting, and he was desperate for another taste. “It was this pussy, Abby.”

He spread her open, letting a long stream of air blow over her, watching as her little clit pulsed. “You want me here,” he whispered. “I can see you aching for me.”

A little whimper came from her—desire mixed with embarrassment. “But you don’t have to—”

He cut her off with a lazy stroke, the pad of his index finger right where she throbbed for him. When she cried out her pleasure, he nipped his own at the top of her thigh. “Let’s be clear, cher, there’s nothing about this moment that is a have to. It’s all a want to. The things I want to do to you, baby…they are fucking filthy.”

“But we already—you already—”

“Mmm-hmm,” he said, his finger moving in slow circles, slicking her clit with their combined wetness. “We did. I did. We should probably talk about that.”

Her eyes went wide and she sucked in a breath. “I’ve never…without…”

“Neither have I. And I haven’t been with anyone since my last medical all-clear,” he said, shocked at his calm. He hadn’t had a father. He’d never wanted another child to grow up without one. But her child…their child…there wasn’t a risk of that. He imagined her round with a child. A beautiful brown-eyed daughter. He wanted that little girl almost as much as he wanted her mother. His wife.

His Abby.

Always Abby.

“I’m on the pill.”

Smart girl. “Bon. Then you won’t have a problem with me going back for seconds.” He leaned down and sucked one of her outer lips into his mouth, using his tongue to stroke the soft inner wall as his finger played over her again and again and she bowed off the bed, crying out.

“Roux!”

“Mmmm.” She liked that, opening her thighs wider to give him more access. Unbelievable access. He pulled back to look at her, spread open and pink and beautiful. He had just been there, just come there—could still see the evidence—and she was still aching for him. “So beautiful,” he whispered, circling his finger in time to the way she circled her hips. He wondered if she knew she was doing it, guiding him. Begging him. “So wet. So perfect.”

“Roux…” She keened his name and he lifted his finger from her clit. “Wait!” she cried. “No! Don’t!”

“Greedy girl,” he said. “You want more.”

“I do,” she said.

“And?” He blew on her pretty little clit. “Do you believe that I want more, too?”

She closed her eyes and threw her head back against the bed. “I—”

He leaned forward and set the tip of his tongue to her…just the tip, right on the tip of her clit. Flicked once.

“Roux!”

“Do you believe that I think you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met?” Again, back and forth, quick, until she gasped.

Christ, she tasted good.

“Please!”

He slid his finger down to her opening, where she was begging for him, sliding it in, gritting his teeth as she moaned and thrust up to meet him. “Do you believe you’re the woman who gets me hard? Who makes me ache? Who makes my mouth water? My heart beat?”

“I—”

He returned to suck on her clit.

“Ohmigod.”

“Tell me, Abby.” He sucked again. Flicked. Licked.

“OhmigodyesIbelieveyou.” The words came in a flood.

His breath was harsh against her. His voice like gravel. “Because you want me to make you come?”

“Because I believe you and I want you to make me come.”

He laughed at that, sliding a second finger into her just as hers tangled in his hair, clenching, guiding. He followed, rocking into the bed, his cock threatening to explode, and rewarding her with another little suck.

“Please, Roux.”

“Tell me.” He growled. “Command me.”

“Do it,” she whispered. “Make me come.”

“With fucking pleasure, cher.”

And he did, settling in to feast on her slick sweetness, over and over, again and again, faster and faster, flicking and rubbing and licking in between long, rhythmic pulls that sent her wild beneath him. She held him to her, rocking against him, fucking his mouth and tongue and crying out, losing control. Relinquishing it to him. And then she came, tightening around his fingers where they slid into her, in and out, in and out, like a promise of what was to come.

The taste of her—Jesus. Like nothing he’d ever imagined. It took all his control to keep from coming all over the fucking bed.

He stayed there for long moments, keeping his tongue still and flat against her, his fingers slowing and gentling as she sobbed her pleasure and rocked against him and rode it until she couldn’t bear him anymore and she pulled his head up and away from her.

And then it took all his control to keep from going in for round three of pussy licking. But she was trembling beneath him, and she needed a break. At least he thought she did. Until she whispered, her voice low and full of satisfaction, making him want to roar his triumph like a fucking lion, “Would you like to know what I thought about all that time you were thinking of me?”

He came to lie next to her, running his fingers down her body, leaning in to give one beautiful, flushed, full tit a little lick. “It wasn’t that?”

She laughed, the sound turning to a gasp as he found her nipple and began to suck. “No…I couldn’t have imagined what that would—” She threaded her fingers into his hair, holding him to her.

Roux didn’t think he could get harder, but the idea of her taking her pleasure—manipulating it from him—again—fuck, he was carved stone.

And then she whispered, “I thought about making you come.”

He froze. Harder than stone. Steel. Diamond.

He lifted his head, finding her wild gaze. Desperate. Aching. Hot as hell.

He shouldn’t ask. They had barely been together for an hour. He should take her to dinner. He should buy her flowers. He should try to be a gentleman. He could be a gentleman. “How did you make me come?”

Apparently, he could not be a gentleman.

She blushed, and his thoughts scrambled. He thrust against the soft skin of her belly, unable to stop himself. God he wanted inside her again. But not as much as he wanted her to answer his question.

“Tell me.”

And then the goddess beneath him smiled. “With my mouth.”

Holy shit.