I was planning on getting it, thank you very much. There’s no way in hell I’d let Luke be the first to crack open my purchase from twelve months ago. How embarrassing would that be? But he’s definitely wearing one. I don’t care how much he hates it. After last summer, I’m done taking chances and relying solely on my method of birth control. Not even for this one time. This one moment of desperation. Because that’s all this will be.

I walk back into the living room, halting at the sight of him naked, smugly leaning against the couch. He shifts when I enter, gripping the couch behind him and giving me full view of his heavy cock as it hangs between his legs. It’s no longer hard, but that doesn’t ease the effect it has on me. Not at all.

I force myself to move and stop in front of him. “Here.”

He looks down at the condom, then back at me. “What are you waiting for? Put it on.”

“What?”

He grabs my hand, gripping the condom between his teeth and tearing the wrapper. “You heard me. You might want to get me hard first, otherwise you’re going to have a helluva time.”

I tilt my head with a grimace, removing the wrapper and discarding it on the floor. “How would you know? I thought you refused to wear these things?”

“I refused to wear one with you, and if you’re so fucking adamant about it now, then you’re going to do it.” He grabs my empty hand, forcing it against his cock, holding me there as we both feel him pulse to life. “Get the fuck on with it, already.”

Every pissy response I have in me vanishes at the feel of him throbbing, begging for this, for more of what we both need. The second he’s fully hard, I roll the condom down his length with frantic fingers, ignoring the shake in my hand and narrowing in on my task. He spins me around, tilting my body to the angle he needs to drive straight into me. His cock lines up, slides over my pussy, and I’m so ready for this my legs begin to tremble.

I know exactly what this feels like. No matter how bad I wanted to, I never forgot it. But the moment he bottoms out and digs his deft fingers into my skin, I see stars, and the only thing I can remember is how to moan.

“Oh God,” I cry out as he begins thrusting into me, causing my body to practically fold in half. His hard chest forms to my back, his arm wrapping around my breasts and pulling me up until I’m staring at our reflection in the mirror on the wall. His eyes are there, holding me, as his thrusts become feverish.

“Fuck, you’re so…” His words are broken up by a strangled groan that catches in his throat. He dips his head, tasting the skin of my neck up to my ear. “Why? Why does it have to be this good?”

I ignore his words because I don’t have an answer. I wish it didn’t feel like this, but it always has, and I hate knowing it always will.

Our eyes never break contact as he grinds into me, his one hand massaging my breast as his other splays across my stomach inching lower, lower, until he brushes against my clit and I arch against him.

“Luke,” I pant, reaching up and raking over his short hair as his tongue slides across the curve of my neck. His lips brush against my cheek and I tense. “Please don’t kiss me.”

I can’t feel his lips on mine. The slightest brush I felt earlier before I begged for this is all I can take. Sex is usually the most intimate act two people can share, but not with Luke.

The hesitant yet urgent tilt of his head, the way he sucks my tongue while his hands hold me like I’m delicate… Everything else this man does is deliberate, calculated, but not kissing. That’s where he loses control. Something snaps, breaking his discipline while he steals every memory of any other kiss out of your head. It’s honest and real, and fucking beautiful the way he gives you all of him when he’s always held back. And seeing him lose all restraint like that, allowing you a glimpse at how vulnerable he can be is something I know I can’t survive.

I never have.

He eases back, allowing his breath to heat my skin while his eyes search for understanding in my reflection. He must see it, how helpless I feel in his arms. It’s so strikingly obvious to me, as unmistakable as my need to be here. Right fucking here.

He lunges harder, faster, his pace breaking into a wild frenzy as my lips part with a moan and my head hits his shoulder. This is it. The heat, that sweet fire that I’d die from if it meant feeling like this one more time.

With him.

“I’m… oh, God, I’m…”

He growls against my ear as his hand squeezes my breast. “Faking?”

“Asshole,” I choke out through a moan, catching his knowing grin before my eyes roll closed. The pleasure barrels through me in waves, pushing me further into his touch as his grip on me tightens. I drop my hand, stopping the slide of his fingers against my clit when I can’t take it anymore. My body falls lax against his as he slows his movements completely before pulling out.

“Turn around.”

Our eyes meet in the mirror, and I realize only then that he hasn’t climaxed yet. I steady myself before turning to face him, watching as he tugs the condom off and strokes his cock. A firm hand presses against my shoulder, easing me to my knees, and I go willingly, wrapping my lips around him and letting him hit the back of my throat.

“Aw fuck, yeah. There’s nothing like your mouth.”

I let him drop out with a pop. “Not even my pussy?”

He frowns, rubbing his cock against my lips. “When I can fucking feel it. Now open up.”