There was no build-up, no teasing jokes or slow, lingering kisses.

Roscoe claimed Ally’s mouth in an instant, his hands tangling in her hair as they tumbled backward onto the blanket. He kissed her like a man possessed, and she welcomed it, losing herself in the commanding stroke of his tongue, the delicious scratch of his stubble against her chin.

They were side-by-side on the blanket, but Ally wanted more of him. All of him. She shifted onto her back and pulled him on top of her, opening her legs as he settled between them. He was hard, his cock bulging against his jeans, and Ally wondered how long he’d been in such a state. Desperate for more, she fumbled with his button and zipper, but she couldn’t reach him. Roscoe groaned into her mouth, deepening their kiss as his hips rocked forward. The press of his strong body on top of hers left little room for maneuvering.

“Not yet,” he whispered, reaching for her hands. In one strong motion, he pinned her wrists to the blanket behind her head, capturing her lower lip with his teeth, nipping and teasing as his other hand slid down to her waist. “Okay?” he asked.

Ally nodded. Everything he did was exquisite, and she wanted every part of it.

He sank onto her with his full weight, and her legs wrapped around his hips, pulling him closer. His hot, hard length throbbed against her clit, nothing but a few scraps of fabric holding back a torrent of desire.

She arched her hips, heat and pressure building between her thighs, the friction driving her wild. She’d never wanted to come so badly before, so desperately.

“Let me touch you.” Roscoe’s breath was hot and urgent in her mouth, a command she was more than happy to obey.

Gathering her dress into her hands, she bunched the fabric up around her waist, revealing her bare thighs and the pale pink triangle of her panties.

“Jesus,” Roscoe whispered. Heat radiated from his touch as his fingers slid over her belly, her thighs, teasing the sensitive skin beneath the lace edge of her panties. If he didn’t touch her soon—harder, faster, more—Ally would go mad with unrequited lust.

“Please,” she whispered, grabbing his forearm, arching her hips to get closer to his elusive heat.

Roscoe grinned like a wolf, tracing a line across her abdomen from one hip bone to another. “Close your eyes.”

The moment she shut out the world, he slid his hand down the front of her panties, fingers gliding over her clit, stroking her.

“How badly do you want to come,” he asked, slowly sliding a finger inside her entrance, then dragging it out. It was just enough to tease her, to give her a taste of her wildest dreams.

Ally couldn’t even form words. She moaned in response, writhing on top of the blanket, her skin buzzing, every nerve ending electrified.

She shouldn’t want him so badly. Shouldn’t be thinking about tearing off her panties, freeing him from his boxers, and begging him to slide inside her, hard and deep.

But oh my God, she was thinking about it. Imagining how good it would feel to have this man between her thighs. To lose herself in every stroke.

Her thoughts were exquisite, making her even wetter.

“Show me,” he said, pressing another kiss to the corner of her mouth. He teased her entrance again, two fingers this time, sliding inside her as his thumb ghosted over her clit. “Show me how you like to be touched.”

His voice was deep and low, demanding in a way that made her insides fizzy. Her eyes still shut tight, Ally’s body took over, arching into his touch.

“That’s it,” he said, thrusting deeper. Faster. She met him stroke for stroke, riding his hand. “Don’t stop.”

“Kiss me,” she begged.

His mouth was on hers in a flash, his kiss as possessive as his touch, his tongue sliding between her lips as he continued to stroke her with fevered intensity, heat building between her thighs, her core throbbing as he brought her closer to the edge of a place she hadn’t been in longer than she cared to remember.

The fire in her body was all-consuming, swallowing her in its white-hot fury. Logic evaporated. Fear turned to smoke and ash. She was there. Right there, her legs trembling, her muscles tightening, and then…

Roscoe captured her final gasp with another kiss, swallowing the sounds of her release as the orgasm crashed through her body, warm waves lapping at her skin, sending tingles all the way down to her toes.

Ally wasn’t sure how long she lay there, eyes closed, skin cooling as her breathing slowly returned to normal. But when she finally came back to her senses and opened her eyes, she found Roscoe staring down at her, the hunger in his eyes plain.

Ally lowered her gaze to his boxers, the bulge behind them barely contained. He had to be close. So close that any other guy would’ve been begging her to touch him, to stroke him, to suck. But Roscoe seemed happy to let Ally set the pace.

Maybe that was why she felt so comfortable with him. So open.

And maybe that was why Ally, once content to follow the lead in bed and most other areas of her life, felt the sudden and overwhelming urge to reach inside his boxers, wrap her fingers around his thick, perfect shaft, and take control.

There was no freaking out this time. No fear, no anxiety, no regrets as she tightened her grip and stroked him. God, he was perfect in every way.

With a wicked grin that made him moan, she said, “Now I want to know how you like it.”