He’s carrying me up the stairs like it’s nothing. I don’t think any of my other boyfriends could have picked me up like that, let alone walked around with me. His strength is a serious turn-on.

We go into the first bedroom. Brando hooks the door shut with his foot, leaving us in darkness, but lays me on the bed as if he has no problem navigating. The next instant a lamp flares on low, enough for us to see each other.

He stretches out next to me and kisses me again, like he has all year to do nothing else. My hands roam his body, skimming up his torso, then around to his back, diving under his shirt to explore the smooth expanse of muscle.

When he nips at my lower lip, the tiny pain flashes through me, straight to my clit. My nails dig into his back, and he growls softly into my mouth. I squirm under him, unable to hold still with all the impulses surging through my body.

Breaking the kiss, he whips off his t-shirt. Sitting me up, he does the same thing to my top. One big hand scoops my breast out of my bra, and then his mouth clamps on.

I gasp, my hands diving into his silky dark hair. Every tug of his mouth arrows down to my womb, until I’m aching with need. “Brando,” I moan, trying to hold him against me, but he pulls away and switches his attentions to my other breast.

My taut, wet nipple only has a moment’s respite before his fingers start to pluck at it, twisting, pinching, rolling. “Brando!”

“Sweet,” he mutters, his voice so deep it reverberates through me. “So fuckin’ sweet.” Shifting down my body, he unzips my jeans and tugs at them, my hips lifting automatically to help him.

Off come my ankle-high boots, then my jeans and panties. I’m left naked except for my bra, but there’s no time to feel self-conscious because Brando’s parting my thighs, settling between them, and then his mouth is on me.

“Oh, fuuuuuuck,” I whimper as he licks me open, lips and tongue and teeth devouring me with single-minded focus. Pleasure swells, rolling out from my center to the very tips of my fingers and toes, making them tingle before it rushes back to gather in my core.

When he starts to suck on my clit, I gasp, my hips jerking up. His hands come under my ass, lifting, squeezing, holding me tight against him as he drives me mad. Tension coils tighter and tighter inside me, taking me to the edge, and then he uses his teeth and I shatter, screaming.

Brando kisses his way down to my inner thighs, nipping at the tender flesh there, then soothing it with his mouth. Even with the aftershocks of my climax still trembling through me, I feel arousal start to build again.

But he doesn’t go back to my pussy, except in passing. He kisses his way up my body, all the way to my mouth, letting me taste myself on his tongue.

And then, heaven help me, he starts the whole thing over again, only this time he explores me even more thoroughly, stroking and tasting every inch of my skin.

“Brando,” I beg him, as need becomes an inferno, my body pleading for release. “Please.” He doesn’t stop until he’s feasting between my legs again, driving me up and up until I come apart for him.

Only then does he climb off the bed and strip out of the rest of his clothes. He’s even more beautiful than I expected. I’m so blissed out from my orgasms that even the sight of his cock, thick and long, standing proudly against his rock-hard abs, only makes me a little nervous.

I reach for him and he rejoins me, stretching out alongside me, kissing me once more while one hand plays between my legs. He works a finger inside me, then another, stretching me, while his thumb circles my clit.

When he adds a third finger, my hips begin to rise and fall, answering his movements, as his tongue plunges into my mouth in the same rhythm. His hand goes faster, the friction like nothing I’ve ever felt, and then he leaves my mouth and slides down to suck my clit, his fingers still pumping in and out of me, and my cries bounce off the walls as the climax rips through me.

“Sasha.” His voice in my ear, soft and low. “Are you on birth control?”

“Yes.” I don’t recognize my own voice. I’ve been on the pill since high school, thanks to my awful cramps, but he doesn’t need to know why.

“I’ve been tested, so we’re safe there.”

“Good.” My lust-addled brain manages, barely, to comprehend his meaning. “I’m safe too.”

“Okay,” he whispers, and then he moves between my legs, takes himself in hand, and starts to rub the head of his cock against me, coating himself in my wetness, teasing my clit until I reach for him, impatient, every ounce of me ready for him.

He lets me take hold of him, wrapping my hand as best I can around his girth. The silky hardness fascinates me; I stroke him, licking my lips at the creamy liquid that wells from the slit.

“You’re killin’ me, babe.” His voice is hoarse.

“What do you think you’ve been doing to me?” I counter languidly.

“That’s my job.”

I smile at him, and I don’t have to see myself to know it’s warm, sensual, the kind of smile a satisfied woman gives her lover. “I think it’s my job too.”

The muscles in his stomach quiver, but he waits, letting me play with him until my hunger takes over and I guide him to my entrance. Bracing himself above me, he starts to push inside.

I feel my eyes get huge. He stops. “All right?”

“Yes, you’re just … big.”

He studies me, his eyes narrowing. “You’ve done this before, right?”

Caught, I bite my lip. “Not exactly.”

“Dammit, Sasha.” He pulls back and I wrap my legs around him, holding him to me.

“Please,” I beg, my hands framing his face. “Don’t stop.”