Dinner is amazing, full of things I’ve never tried before, like a starter of oysters with spicy, tangy sauces; salad with a Japanese/Latin fusion dressing; lobster, salmon, and Wagyu sashimi; scallops in a piquant salsa. It’s all topped off by a palate cleanser of green tea, which ends our meal. Connor tells me we’ll have dessert soon, somewhere outside of the restaurant, and I don’t think he’s talking about more food.

The way his gaze has been burning as he watches me eat all these new, lovely things tells me I’m on the menu.

I find out just what he means by dessert after we escape even more paparazzi on our way out of the restaurant and settle into the limo again. We’re already being driven away when Connor gives me another heated look.

“How was dinner?”

He’s holding a plain white box from the restaurant, and I have no idea what’s inside.

“Fantastic,” I say. “Thank you so much, Connor. I’m going to remember this forever.”

He notices that I’m eyeing the box, but as usual, he withholds any and all information, making me work for it. “Was it everything you hoped for when you demanded that we go out?”

“That and more.” I press my lips together, thinking about all the great food, the soothing and expensive ambience. I smile and say, “It’s no wonder that place is so popular. If I had as much money as you, I’d be going to places like that all the time, paparazzi or not.”

“It takes someone like you to remind me that my experiences are out of the ordinary.” He leans toward me, all heat and temptation. “You have no idea what else the city, much less the world, holds, do you?”

“You knew I was naïve when you bid on me.”

“I didn’t know the extent of it. And I like watching you discover everything, one day at a time.” His arrogant smirk is suggestive. “One night at a time.”

My stomach quakes in anticipation. “Connor, what’s in that box?”

The city lights roll through the windows as he falls silent. The partition is up, enclosing us in our own little world, the music dreamlike with a moody beat.

“You’re not going to tell me what’s in it?” I ask.

“Only if you cooperate.” He jerks his chin toward my side of the limo. “Turn around toward your window, Allyson.”

A vein in my neck palpitates, sending the same rhythmic, tortuous signal throughout my body. My temperature rises until my skin feels prickly with heat.

I obey him, facing my window, pacing my breathing. The bare back of my black-lace halter dress leaves my skin exposed to him, and I shiver some more.

“I watched you eat all night,” he says quietly. “I watched you enjoy. With each bite you took, I got harder and harder for you. You got me hungry again.”

When I feel his fingertips run down my spine, I gasp. His usually warm skin is slightly cool, as if whatever is in the box made it way.

“What was your favorite part of the night?” he asks.

I think for a moment while holding my breath. I want to feel him again, wish he would just touch me. Every beat of my pulse begs for it.

I finally speak. “I liked it when you walked me through the paparazzi gauntlet and into the restaurant. I felt like a queen.”

As he slips his fingers into the sides of my dress, I close my eyes and revel in the provocative sensation. He explores the ticklish skin over my ribs.

“Why else did you like that so much?” His mouth is so close to me that the fine hairs on the back of my uncovered neck stir with his warm breathing.

Goose bumps rise on my flesh. “As you walked with me, it felt as if you actually wanted me to be with you tonight.” A moan swells in my chest as he keeps stroking my ribs. I push the sound down, only to feel it grow. “Even though you put up such a fight about taking me out in public at first, I felt as if I belonged with you here.”

“I did want you with me tonight. And you do belong with me for the next several days.”

Yes, I think. Then I’ll be gone.

He slides his hands farther into the dress, around me until he cups my breasts. I sway, opening my eyes. He lazily plays with my nipples, stimulating them. Lava seems to bubble through me until it settles in my belly, simmering, then flowing between my legs.

I can barely speak now. “Did you hear those questions the paparazzi were asking?”

Connor presses his mouth against my neck and makes an mmm sound that tells me he might or might not still be listening to me. Meanwhile, he keeps teasing my breasts, priming me.

“They wanted to know who I was,” I whisper. “Where we met.”

He nips at my shoulder, and I jump a little.

“Too many questions,” he says.

Does he mean from me or the paparazzi?

He trails his lips over my back, kissing one shoulder blade then grazing his teeth over my skin until he gets to the other. Anxiously, I reach down to slip off my shoe. I fumble off the next one, too.

In a burst of passion, he lifts one of my arms so that it’s around his neck. I’m twisted around to face him, and our gazes meet and spark. Then, with a tight groan, he undoes my halter clasp.

My top falls forward, revealing my breasts.

“Do you know what to do next?” he asks in a taut voice. “Have you learned yet?”

“I think so.”

“Then do it, Allyson.”

With my free hand, I reach into the slit in my skirt to grasp my panties. As Connor negligently rubs his knuckles under my breast with an intense focus that makes me as hot as hell, I work my undies down my legs, then off.

“You’re getting very good at that,” he says.

“I’ve had plenty of…”

He gently pinches my nipple, and the word gets stuck in my throat.

“Practice?” he finishes for me.

“Yeah. You could call it that.”

He reaches to the floor where he put the white box at some point. My juices gush, drenching me with every throb of my pussy. Then he opens the box and shows me what’s inside.

Little mounds of colorful, powdered treats.

“Mochi ice cream?” I ask. I haven’t ever eaten it, but I know it has something to do with rice dough shaped around balls of ice cream.

“I told you we were having dessert,” he says.

He brings one of the light orange mounds out of the box and lifts it to my mouth. I take a small bite, and the sweet coolness tickles my taste buds. It has the flavor of mango fruit.

Connor lowers the mound to my nipple and circles it. The iciness makes me haul in a breath, and I get even more aroused. Then he bends down to suck the cream off of me, slowly, hungrily.

Dizzily, I watch him working my breast, licking my nub with his tongue, back and forth, then gently eating me as if I’m dessert. The intimate sight makes me so wet that I’m afraid I’ll melt as quickly as the ice cream.

He stops only to spread more of the cream over my other breast, then cups me underneath, bringing my nipple to his lips. He laves me there, too, seducing me with his mouth. I rub my face against his thick hair, my fingers caressing his neck.

“Is this my reward for doing well in public for you?” I’m slurring like I’m drunk, but I haven’t had any booze. I’m only intoxicated by him.

“You could call this a reward,” he murmurs against my breast. He looks up at me, nuzzling me as he talks. “You did well, Allyson. Very well, and your biggest reward will be when you come for me harder than you ever have before.”

His dirty promises make my clit feel swollen, aching, and when he suddenly shifts my position, turning me away from him again, I know I’ll be coming like a flash flood.

I instinctively part my legs for him just before he strokes his fingers up and through my folds. When he gets to my clit, he massages it.

Everything sounds so wet, so deliciously slick, and I wiggle my hips until I feel his fingertips against my opening.

“She wants it bad,” he says with his mouth against my ear. “My girl next door grew up real fast in the city.”

My moan is a yes.

I push onto his fingertip so that he dips into me a bit. He eases his finger into me all the way, slowly pumping it and getting me going with my ecstatic mewls before cruelly withdrawing.

“What are you—?”

“Easy, Allyson,” he says against my hair. “Just wait.”

He reaches down into the box again, then lifts another mochi treat to my mouth. I nibble once, and he pulls it away from me. I bite quicker and harder, catching most of the dessert and taking in a scrumptious morsel that melts all too quickly. I lean my head back against Connor’s shoulder so he can see me lick my lips.

“Move toward your window,” he urges.

My pussy spasms at what he must have in mind, and I do as he says, getting on all fours, waiting, panting. He pushes up the back of my skirt until it’s bunched at my waist, then spreads the cheeks of my bottom.

I suck in a fast breath as he runs his fingers between me, then rubs a sensitive spot that has me gasping and gyrating my hips. Just as he gets me hot in this new way, he gets down on the floor, turning me toward the rear window at the same time so that he’s behind me. Out of breath, I rest my arms on the top of the seat, seeing how the windows have steamed. I cradle my head as Connor pushes my legs farther apart and lifts my hips.

Dipping down, he presses his mouth to my sex, with one lick through my slit, then more. His swirling kisses consume me, and I churn my hips with him, already feeling myself falling through space, clutching at whatever I can as a cry starts to tear through me so fast that—

As I burst in a cracking wave of light, I recover with a grasping breath, weaker than I’ve ever been as I feel Connor growl against my pussy then run his tongue up to that even more private place that I never expected a man would touch, much less kiss. His tongue flirts with that ultra sensitive spot between my cheeks, and with another cosmic bang, I come with the force of a lightning storm, splashing, crashing until I can’t hold myself up anymore.

But my weakness only makes me stronger, and I whip around and down to grab Connor’s shirt, pushing him down to the floor and straddling him.

He likes my inexperienced enthusiasm. Loves it. The desire in his eyes is more feverish than I’ve ever seen in him as I fumble at his belt buckle then the fly of his trousers, then take out his hard cock.

Tentatively I brush his balls, and he clenches his jaw so hard that I think it might shatter.

Then he grits through his teeth. “More dessert.”

I think I know exactly what he means.

By now, some of the ice cream has melted in the box, and I spread the thick liquid around, coating my fingers. Then I paint his shaft with this slick treat.

“Take me in your mouth,” he commands.

When I go down on him, his fingers grip my hair, destroying my bombshell hairdo. My strands cover his belly as I deliriously lick all that sweetness from his cock. Hungry, so hungry. Famished. And Connor is the only thing that’s going to sate me.

He comes into my mouth for the second time that day, and that’s the best treat of all—his slight saltiness mixed with the sweetness. He keeps coming, and I keep swallowing until he’s done.

Until we’re both spent and breathless while lying on the floor, the limo’s engine purring beneath us.

Connor looks into my eyes and smooths back the hair from my temple. “When we get home, I’m going to get every inch of you screaming.”

Little does he know that I’m already doing that—and I’m screaming inside for more than sex, even though I want it with every thud of my pulse.

I want all of Connor Kenyon—his body, his heart, and his soul.