Beckett let them in the front door of his house. He took his coat from her shoulders and hung it in the foyer closet.

Gia clasped her hands in front of her and tried to smooth out her breathing. Her nerves were spiraling out of control inside her. She had told him she’d meet him here, but he’d waited for her outside the studio until the kids were packed off and good-byes said. She’d wanted the quiet of a solitary walk, maybe she would have taken a few moments at home to check her makeup, give herself a pep talk.

But here she was. In Beckett’s foyer, trying to not have a heart attack.

“Do you want a glass of wine?” he asked. His voice was soft, low.

She surprised them both by shaking her head. “I want you.”

His reaction was swift, instantaneous. He crossed to her and buried his hands in her hair. Beckett’s mouth captured hers in a demanding blaze of need.

She whimpered against his mouth and dove into the fire after him. Her fingers dug into his shoulders. They were moving backward, but Gia didn’t care. Her back met the front door with an unceremonious thump and she yelped.

“Sorry,” he whispered against her mouth, stealing her breath. But he didn’t move back an inch. She was sandwiched between the door and the unyielding weight of his body and she wanted more.

His hands chased her curves and Gia melted under his touch. She felt him, achingly hard, against her stomach. He groaned when she slipped a hand between their bodies to touch him through his jeans.

“Wait, wait,” he commanded when she opened the button of his pants.

He grabbed her hand and stilled it. “Just wait,” he said, his breath ragged. “Birth control?” he asked.

“Pill. We’re good,” she assured him. When she rose up on her toes to take his mouth again, he gripped her shoulders.

“Wait,” he said again. His hand held her firmly against the door. “I’ve thought about this for … a long time. I don’t want to just rip your clothes off in the foyer.”

“What do you have in mind?” Gia said, her chest rising on short sharp gasps of air.

“Give me five minutes, okay?”

“I live with kids,” Gia reminded him. “I don’t care if you have dirty underwear on the floor.”

He grinned. That quick, charming smile that went to her gut like a shot of whiskey. “Stay here. Don’t move.” Beckett took the stairs two at a time.

As soon as he was out of sight, Gia brought her hands to her flushed face. She took several deep breaths to steady herself. She and Beckett Pierce were going to …

It had been so long for her. What if she’d forgotten what to do? What if the sex was terrible?

She immediately shook that fear from her head. If the kisses were that devastating, sex was guaranteed to be better than good. She brought her fingers to lips swollen from his kisses. Way better.

“Gianna?” Beckett appeared at the top of the stairs.

She climbed the stairs, taking her time, her gaze never leaving his face. She wanted to commit this moment to memory. Her choice to go to him, the anticipation of all that was to come. She saw want and need in his eyes and something else that simmered just beneath the surface.

He held out his hand and she laid her palm in his.

“Mine.”

She thought she heard him whisper the word, but dismissed it, when she realized she couldn’t hear anything over the thudding of her heart in her chest.

Gia was shaking with nerves, with need, with anticipation. In her head there was only room for the now. No doubts, no to-do list, no responsibilities. There was only Beckett. Only her.

He drew her down the hall to the front of the house and the empty bedroom she’d visited once before. The bookcase was ajar, light flickering from beyond.

“Beckett,” she breathed as he led her inside.

There were gas sconces built into the wall that she hadn’t noticed in the dark. They were lit now and joined by a dozen candles that flickered on stairs.

He brushed her hair away from her neck and over her shoulder. “I’ve thought of you here like this since that night.”

Her eyes fluttered closed as his lips fed on the flesh under her jaw. “I bet I wasn’t dressed as a witch in your fantasies.”

“You’d be surprised,” he said darkly.

He worshipped her with his hands, stroking and caressing, sending shivers of need down her spine. She gave herself over to the tidal wave of sensations. His fingers tugged at the tie that fastened her cloak. It fell from her shoulders in a fluid swoop, puddling on the floor between them.

Beckett abandoned her neck and sank to his knees. His hands trekked down her body lower and lower, refusing to miss an inch of flesh. When those warm palms reached her knees, they traveled back up swiftly, drawing her dress with them. Beckett’s lips blazed a trail north.

Gia raised her arms overhead and let him pull the material from her body. He tossed the dress behind them and slowly turned her to face him. His shaky inhalation made her grateful she’d sprung for the spider web thigh highs. They added a little drama to the simple black bra and briefs she wore.

“Were you hoping for the pink thong?” she teased, her voice breathless.

“Next time.” His whisper was a promise.

She reached for him, but Beckett intercepted her hands. “Wait. Just let me look,” he breathed. “You are stunning. You are more than beautiful, Gianna.”

His words, like his hands, had her weak in the knees and trembling. She felt the prickle of tears in her eyes and didn’t know why.

He pulled her to him, rough palms skimming skin. His breath was warm on her face. Gia looked up at him, into him. She could see them, the thin, tight wires of control that he held on to so desperately. She could feel the tension in him, humming beneath her hands.

“Are you sure about this?” Gia asked him.

Beckett’s laugh was strained. “I’m the one who’s supposed to ask you that.” His thumb grazed her full lower lip.

Gia nibbled at the flesh. “Oh, I’m sure. I just don’t want to be a regret to you.”

He dropped his forehead to hers. “My only regret is waiting this long.”

“I haven’t even known you a month yet,” she said, her tongue darting out to taste him.

The noise in his chest was something between a groan and a growl. Primal, dangerous. “Too long,” he told her. “Be with me, Gianna.”

“I’m yours.”

Their mouths met in a furious eruption of desire and power, each wanting to consume. The battle waged and Gia felt herself losing ground. She was too vulnerable, too raw.

Her fingers struggled with the buttons of his shirt, fumbling them free until he shed the fabric from his shoulders. Her hands flew to his jeans, freeing him from the confines of denim. She felt him strain against the soft cotton of his underwear. He groaned against her mouth when she boldly stroked over his thick erection. A tiny damp spot on the fabric told her exactly how much he wanted this, wanted her.

Their breath came in pants now. Beckett hastily toed off his shoes and stepped out of his pants, never breaking contact with her mouth. But when Gia slid her hand in the waistband of his briefs, he stopped her.

“If you touch me now this is going to be over too fast,” he murmured against her bruised lips. “Trust me?”

Heavy-eyed, she nodded. She didn’t know what he planned to do, didn’t care, as long as his hands were on her.

Beckett spun them around until her back was to the wall. Using his hand, he cuffed her wrists overhead. He pressed his knee between her legs until she opened her thighs for him. His knee met the wall behind her ensuring she couldn’t close on him.

Exposed and at his mercy, Gia felt the flutter of nerves.

His free hand skimmed down, leaving a trail of fire to the front clasp of her bra. He paused, only for the span of a heartbeat before deftly releasing her breasts from their lace-bound prison.

He sighed, the hot cloud of his breath tickled her neck and sent a shiver down her spine. His hand paused on her ribs, just under her breast. “I want you so badly, I’m almost afraid to touch you. Afraid I won’t survive.” His lips murmured the words over her jaw and lower to where her pulse fluttered frantically.

Gia felt her legs give, thankful that he kept her from falling. He was seducing her, methodically, absolutely. She wasn’t prepared to defend against it. She couldn’t protect her heart from the imprint of the words he uttered or her body from the branding of his hands. In this moment, she was his.

He brought his lips to hers once more, his palm sliding over the heavy curve of her breast to cup it. Gia gasped against him and he used the opportunity to deepen the kiss.

He released her mouth in a bid to taste more. Her hands flexed against their restraint, but he held firm. He cradled her breast and brought his lips within an inch of her sensitive peak. Her nipple strained toward his hot breath and a cry tore from her throat as he finally took it in his mouth.

She wanted to fight the sensations that swamped her, rocking her equilibrium. But she could only whimper as he latched on and drank her in. His hand slid down across her stomach until his fingertips toyed with the waistband of her underwear.

Gia reflexively tried to close her legs and only succeeded in squeezing his thigh between hers.

Beckett released her breast and straightened. His fingers slid beneath the black cotton, smoothing over her soft folds. Gia let her head drop back against the wall. Her eyes fluttered as he parted her lips slick with desire, but didn’t close. They couldn’t. Not with Beckett’s gaze piercing her as his fingers did, sliding in and up.

Gia’s hips flexed against him and he obliged her, withdrawing his fingers slowly before thrusting them back into her center. Again and again, harder, deeper. She was falling now. Falling into the waves that threatened to carry her away, but still couldn’t close her eyes.

The stormy gray of Beckett’s gaze held her where she was. Anchored her as the waves crashed over her, in her. She came in the storm, lightning electrifying her body, her muscles quivering around his fingers.

“My God, Beckett.” Her breath came in shallow bids for oxygen.

He released her arms from their restraint and they tumbled to his shoulders. “Hold on to me,” he ordered.

Gia did her best to wrap her shaking arms around him as he lifted her up, his hands cupping her. He used a hand to wrench his cock free and yank her underwear to the side. The broad crest of his penis nestled at her entrance and Gia gasped.

She cupped his face in her hands. “I want to see you —” The words were wrenched from her when Beckett thrust into her — triumph burning in those smoke-gray eyes — impaling her against the wall. The thinnest slice of pain wove its way around the pleasure she felt from finally being stretched full. She had to adjust her legs around his waist before she could fully accommodate his length.

But there was no time to adjust, because Beckett had lost himself to a rhythm as old as time. Taken over by need and greed, his body dictated a wild pace.

Her nipples grazed his chest with every thrust, heightening their sensitivity to epic proportions. Already her delicate muscles inside were starting to tremor. The wall bit into her back as he rammed into her again, but she didn’t care. Gia wanted more. Everything that he had to offer, she wanted.

Holding her with one arm, he brought his free hand to cup her other breast tugging her nipple with strong, insistent pulls that drove her mad.

She gasped out his name and exploded around him violently. He slowed his thrusts by degrees to match the ripples of her orgasm, letting her core milk him while she shattered.

He rode out her climax before carefully lowering her to the floor. Gia’s legs couldn’t hold her, so he carried her to the stairs.

He gently turned her away from him and down until she was kneeling on a tread.

“Are you okay with this?” he asked, kneeling behind her and stroking her hair.

She glanced over her shoulder. His face was tight with need. His erection stood at attention just behind her. “God, yes,” Gia whispered. She planted her hands on the step in front of her and braced her knees apart. “Please, Beckett.”

He guided his cock between her legs and ran it over and around her opening. “This is what I wanted to do to you that night,” he whispered. “This is what I’ve fantasized about every night since.”

He entered her slowly, with aching precision. A low growl rumbled in him as Gia wiggled her hips to allow the last inch of him to slide in. His hands gripped her hips to control the pace. “Gianna,” he gritted out her name, and slowly withdrew inch by inch.

She moaned as he filled her again, this time faster. He had to be desperate for release, she thought, but Beckett held back with smooth, measured thrusts. His size left her aching as he filled her and then again with emptiness when he left her.

She wrapped her hands around the spindles of the staircase and leaned a little lower. Beckett’s hands came to her breasts, cupping them gently. It was here, with her hardened peaks grazing his palms with each thrust that he began to lose control.

He grunted softly when she shifted her hips back against him and again when he felt her start to tighten around him. He brought one hand to her hair, fisting it in the wild wonder if it. His other hand left her breast and slid between her legs.

“Again, Red.”

She didn’t think she could. There was nothing left to give, was there?

But as she felt him get impossibly harder, as he began to grunt on every thrust her body gave her answer, she realized there was more. So much more.

Beckett’s hips flexed violently as he came, releasing his seed into her with a shout. “Gianna!”

His orgasm sent her over the edge once more, ripping a climax from her as he arched against her. Once. Twice. Three times. “Mine. Mine. Mine,” he whispered as he filled her with his release.