The show had been beautiful. Winnie had never seen a Chinese opera, and The Peony Pavilion, with its soaring music, elaborate costumes, and romantic, sophisticated story had spellbound her. Then there was West by her side. And here, like this, their arms brushing, she could pretend that it was like it’d been when she first got to New York. Just the two of them. She had wanted it to last forever.

But when it was over, it was over, and West had led her out of his private box and back into the crowded box office. She’d had to hold onto his arm as he cut through the crowd to the coat check.

When they were finally settled into a private car, she’d leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her hand over his. It felt so intoxicatingly right to be cuddled up to him like this, watching the city lights pass by outside.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” he said, stroking her hair.

“It was phenomenal. You’re such a man of taste.” She nuzzled her cheek against his rough, hot neck. “Cat will be upset you didn’t take her.”

“I only had two tickets,” he said dismissively.

“Well, exactly.”

He sighed. She wasn’t sure if she’d heard him sigh before. “She’s not the girl I chose. You are. And you’re the girl I’m going to take around town.”

“We didn’t talk about . . . about last night,” she said very quietly. The memory of their lovemaking made her skin hot. It had been so passionate, so intense—so satisfying.

“What’s to talk about? I enjoyed it. You’re a goddess.”

The piney, masculine scent of his skin was irresistible. She gave his neck a soft, tentative love bite, and he made a deep sound of pleasure. “I enjoyed it too.”

“I want you again, Winnie.” His fingers tightened possessively in her hair. “You do things to me that no other woman ever has. God, you look beautiful tonight.”

She flushed, glad he liked her in the dress she’d chosen, a silk sheath. “You don’t want Cattail? She’s pretty . . .”

“She is pretty,” he agreed disinterestedly. “But you’re radiant.”

“You’re the handsomest man I’ve ever met, West. The handsomest man I’ve ever seen.” She bit his neck again, harder this time. He groaned. The car had a black divider between the back seat and the driver that emboldened her. “I need you inside me.”

“Winnie . . .” he growled.

Gently, she ran her hand down between his legs and lovingly rubbed his hardening cock through the expensive material of his suit. “You’re such a man,” she breathed, licking his ear. “So big.”

“I’m going to make you mine, Winnie,” he whispered huskily.

She found the closure of his pants and worked to get his cock out. It was as thick as she remembered, a fat, powerful pipe. She licked the head, tasting the sharp salt of pre-come.

“I’m already yours,” she whispered against the hard flesh of his cock.

“Prove that to me, darling.”

She closed her mouth over the head of his cock, sucking slowly, devotedly. The size and heat of it delighted her, and it only grew harder and harder in her pouty mouth. She could feel the veins stiffening like cord wire.

“You’re such a good girl, Winnie,” he growled, pulling her hair gently. “Stop. Sit up.”

She did. He gestured for her to straddle him, so she did, and she sank down on that powerful, straining cock with a gasp.

Sex in a fancy car. She’d never done that before.

His cock filled her to the limit, stretching her wet, silky walls deliciously. Her head tipped back.

“That’s it,” he growled, opening the front closures of her dress until her breasts cupped by her lacy bra were in full view. “Enjoy it.”

“West,” she gasped. The car turned abruptly, and she gripped his shoulder and the back of the seat as he held onto her waist. The torsion shifted his cock inside her, making her yelp.

“Don’t fight it,” he said, squeezing her. “Ride me, darling.”

So she did. The movement of the car helped her, roughening her rhythm, pulling him deeper or sideways inside her. It was unpredictable, thrilling. Her hips rolled with abandon.

He was kissing her, kissing her breasts, clenching her waist like iron. His cock was harder than rebar in her pussy, choking her cunt with pleasure. She couldn’t last much longer.

“West, I can’t–I can’t—”

“Don’t try to, darling,” he whispered roughly in her ear. “Come for me.”

She did. She let the ecstasy crest. The climax hit her hard, and she was moaning, gasping, drenching his cock and his dress pants with her orgasm. Her expensive dress was soaked with sweat.

He came, too, pumping hot, sticky ropes of come inside her. She loved that.

“You’re beautiful, Tam,” he murmured. “So beautiful.”

With an effort, she dismounted and collapsed into the seat beside him. The lights of the city passed by in a blur.

“Kiss me,” he ordered.

She did, enjoying his tongue in her mouth. This should never end.