BELL

I already knew about Robert Hawk, but I hadn’t understood the depth of his reach until that moment, until Dario laid it all out across that candlelit table. He sat back, and my hair blew across my lips. I tucked it behind my ear and thought through everything he had said.

My thoughts didn’t work logically. I wanted to break them down, to address each problem one by one. Gwen. Her father. His marriage. What he saw for our future. But all I could hear, in the thoughts that crowded my head, were Dario’s words. I love you. He loved me. A man who controlled so much, a man pulled in so many directions by so many, a man so fiercely attractive I could barely breathe in his presence, who had broken through all of my walls … he loved me.

He was waiting, and I reached for my drink, taking a sip of the sweet wine and giving myself another moment to think, to remember everything that he said. Leaving Gwen is complicated.

“I think you should talk to Gwen. Get her opinion on this.”

He looked out on the water. “I didn’t want to talk to her without working through it with you first. If you want to walk away, then there’s no need to involve her.”

I choked out a laugh.

“What?”

“Nothing. It’s just…” I tried to find a way to explain the cowardice in that, if that was even the right word. “It sounds like you’re hedging your bets. If I walk away, you’ll just go back to her. Life goes on, everyone is happy.” I raised one eyebrow at him. “Right?”

“No.”

I leaned forward, putting my elbows on the table and resting my chin on my fists. “Sounds like it to me.”

“If you walk away, I’ll spend the next few decades fighting to forget you.”

I snorted. “Oh, please.”

DARIO

She didn’t get it. She didn’t realize her hold on him, the way that she had disrupted everything. Maybe … maybe that was his fault.

He forced his jaw to unclench, for his words to come out calm. “I’m not a man used to fighting for attention, Bell. I haven’t been in a position to do a proper job of showing you how I feel about you. Part of that’s due to my respect for Gwen. Part of it is because I’ve worried, if I showed you all of my cards, that you’ll be careless with me.”

But he already had shown her his cards, even if she hadn’t recognized it. Protecting her from Hawk. Ripping apart that filth from her hometown. Giving her a new home, chasing her around like a love-struck teenager. Had any other woman walked away from him, he would have laughed. When she’d walked away, over and over, he’d followed. Waited for. Chased. His cards had been on the table from the moment he’d walked into The House and saw her. She just hadn’t known where to look, and what they meant.

He pulled her hand toward him, cupping the small palm between his. “I love you. And I’m risking everything for you. Telling Gwen is a side effect that has no impact on the destruction you are capable of doing to me.”

Her eyes softened, and maybe there was a chance, maybe she did love him, maybe he wasn’t a crazy old man chasing a flighty college girl. She glanced down, and he steeled himself for whatever was coming next. “I’m worried you’re playing me.”

Insanity, coming from her perfect little mouth. How did she not know?

“It’s just that, we haven’t even…”

He tried to follow the sentence, tried not to get distracted by the way her teeth gently pulled across her pale pink bottom lip.

“We haven’t even had sex.” She leaned forward, whispering the words, and he laughed. So young, this one. So brave, so beautiful, but so young. Did she think that mattered?

“I told you why we haven’t done that.”

She cast her eyes to the side, glancing at the other tables to see if anyone was listening. Everything they’d talked about, and this… this is what she was worried about. This from the woman who was naked underneath that dress, her bare pussy in easy reach of his fingers and at risk of exposure from a strong breeze. He felt his cock stiffen and mentally forced the image from his mind.

“Yeah.” Her lips pursed together in a beautiful pinch.

“Because I cared about you as more than a fuck. Because I was trying to keep…” He had tried to keep an emotional distance between them. Tried and failed. He had tried not to get in too deep. Tried and failed. Why was he still trying? What was he still fighting?

He leaned forward. “Is that what you want? It’s important to you?”

She shifted in her seat, a blush spreading over those gorgeous cheeks. “I just want all of you. Not some censored version of you.”

Censored. That was an adjective that had never been used to describe him. Then again, with other women, he’d had them naked and wrapped around his cock within hours. With other women, he hadn’t been interested in anything but that.

He stood so suddenly that the table jerked a little. “Let’s go.”

“What?”

He pulled out his wallet and peeled two large bills off its clip, tossing them down on the table.

“Now. Come on.”

He held out his hand for hers, and she grinned, grabbing her purse and standing. Her soft palm slipped into his, and they moved through the planters and toward the entrance.

“Want to walk back along the beach?” he asked.

She glanced toward the hotel, then out on the sand. Reaching down, she pulled off her left heel, then her right. From her new, diminished height, she jogged forward onto the beach, turning and giving him a playful look. She looked free and in love. It was a look he wanted to see every day, for the rest of his life. He caught up with her, grabbing her hand and pulling her against him.

She was a freaking minx. A sexy, adorable, beautiful minx. And she wanted him, all of him.

It was a blessing that scared the hell out of him.

BELL

He flipped the lock, pulling me into the room and onto the bed. He opened the sliding door, and the sound of the ocean came in, the scent of seawater, the cool warmth of the breeze. I lay back, my weight propped on my elbows, and pulled my feet up, my dress falling to my hips, everything exposed to him.

He stripped, his eyes on me, the moonlight reflecting off his build as it was unveiled. Those shoulders, the bulge of his biceps, the lines of his abs, the sharp cut of his hips. He was a fucking machine, and when he pulled down his underwear, he was already ready.

He ripped open a foil package and tossed it beside me. “I want you just like this, every night of my life.”

His knees settled on the bed, the mattress shifting, and he parted my knees and ran his hands down my thighs. Between us, his stiff cock bobbed, and it was so thick I wondered if it would hurt. I reached between us and wrapped my hand around it. Squeezing the thick cord of muscle, I felt it respond against my palm.

“Lay back.”

His hand brushed over my pussy, and my smile turned into a sigh of surrender, my grip falling off his cock, my back hitting the mattress. His talented fingers made soft contact with my clit, feather-light and circling, moving over the sensitive area in a leisurely fashion. He shifted, and I felt the thick intrusion of fingers, pushing inside of me. My body was slick and ready, and I lifted my hips off the bed in an attempt for more.

“God, you are perfect.” He leaned forward, and my eyes pinched shut when his tongue replaced the movement on my clit, his fingers moving from thrusting to g-spot manipulation, everything in my world turning dark as pleasure overtook brain function, and my body surrendered to his mouth.

The man ate pussy as if it was ice cream. He feasted on it, moaned against my clit, and slid his tongue across every inch of it. A woman couldn’t be self-conscious, not with the talented play of his mouth, his hands pinning my thighs open, the enthusiasm—no, worship—of his touch. My body tightened and he knew, his lips tensing, tongue flicking, and everything spiraled into a hot spin of pleasure, all of my senses building, twisting, exploding underneath that mouth.

“Oh… God… I…”

I surrendered to him, trusted him with its intensity, and didn’t hold back, letting the orgasm bind and break me, the explosion ripping through me with exquisite clarity. I screamed, knotting my fingers in his hair, my thighs clamping around his head, my feet flexing against his back. I whimpered, the orgasm spreading, fading, my body jerking. My legs slid off his shoulders, and my hips bucked, an involuntary reflex, my pussy tightening, an aftershock of pleasure still sparking.

I moaned with unintelligible pleasure and he didn’t look up from his cock, rolling the condom on with brisk efficiency. He sat back on his knees and pulled me forward, flush to him, my thighs against his, my legs falling open, void of any energy or control. My senses came back to life when he thrust forward, a slow, controlled movement that opened my body in an entirely new way.

Holy shit. I could feel him everywhere. Rigid. Thick. He filled me in an almost painful way, and if I wasn’t still drugged and languid from my orgasm, I’d make him stop. I cried out, my hand pushing on his chest, and he leaned forward, the pain lessening, the angle better, his gaze holding mine.

“Give it a minute.”

I’d give it all night. He pulled at my dress, dragging it over my stomach and exposing my breasts. He tilted his hips, went even deeper, and I couldn’t believe this was happening. Him, naked against me. His muscular thighs, tensing. His cock inside of me. His eyes ran over my bare body, and he whispered my name. He slid his hands over my breasts, owning and caressing them with his touch. My body relaxed, adjusted, and when he moved his hands to my hips, his weight settling back, it didn’t hurt anymore. His eyes met mine, and I smiled.

“Ready?”

I didn’t know what I was supposed to be ready for, but I nodded. I nodded, and the man atop me exploded into action.

Had I ever been truly and properly fucked before? I thought I had. I thought I was experienced, thought that all of the men before Dario had exposed me to every pleasure center and position that existed. But in that room, I had a virgin’s knowledge of what could occur.

He fucked … and there was no other word for it. Hard, piston-like thrusts that didn’t change in their repetitions. I didn’t understand the beauty of it until the consistency of his actions led to the build. The build that grew and strengthened and twisted and bloomed, my orgasm the kind that shattered through me, a pleasure center exploding, and stretching. He barely stopped, but suddenly I was on my hands and knees, at his disposal. Animalistic and raw. He growled when he thrust into me. He gripped my ass, pulled me on and off of his cock, and set us into motion.

On my side, his movements slowed, his hands sweeping over me. Teasing. Cherishing.

My dress, fully off. His fingers, tightening in and tugging on my hair. His mouth on my nipples, the gentle scrape of teeth, suction of his tongue.

I crawled on top of him, my knees tight to his sides, his wet fingers dragging over my breasts, then gripping my hips. He pulled me down to his chest, wrapped his arms around me, and his hips took over our movements. That orgasm was the best, the longest, the highest. He rolled on top of me, growled out my name, and let himself come.

He was gorgeous when he came. That heat, that light in his eyes, flared. There was a moment of vulnerability, of raw and unprotected emotion. He grunted, his legs trembled, his hands tightened. It was long, and I could feel his cock flex, felt the warmth of his release through the condom, and I squeezed my body around him in response.

“I love you.” I whispered the confession, and he rolled to his side, pulling me to his chest, his cock still inside me, and I felt his heart, the strong thump and hammer of it. His body was such an engine, a force of sexual nature, built to please and—in this moment—all mine. I relaxed my cheek against his chest, my legs sliding down, his intertwining around them.

“I love you, too.” His fingers trailed over my bare back, and he lifted his head, pressing his lips to my hair. “I don’t ever want another man to have you.”

I think he meant physically, but emotionally, he was the only man who had ever truly had me. Would he be the only one who ever would?

I closed my eyes and couldn’t, in that moment, find anything to say.