In the cabin, Wolfe threw logs into the fireplace while I speared marshmallows onto sticks. I showed him how to make a s’mores train, which is basically a huge, ongoing sandwich of s’mores still on the stick. I taught all my friends in Switzerland how to do it, and some of the parents were livid, sending angry letters to the school’s administrator. They said their daughters gained a lot of weight since I showed them the trick, and that they had to have their fireplaces cleaned on a weekly basis.

“A rebel, then.” He grinned at me. “Could’ve fooled me with your hint of British boarding school accent and impeccable manners.”

“Oh, I was never a rebel,” I said seriously, pushing back the nagging worry that he chose me because I made a well-bred potential first lady. “I mostly stayed out of trouble, though. It was just this incident, and when I accidentally set a teacher’s toupee on fire.” I laughed in Wolfe’s arms, feeling more relaxed and happy than I ever had before. He drew me close to him and kissed me again, a serious kiss, from the variety that told me that the conversational portion of the night was officially over.

He flattened me on my back in front of the fireplace as the fire danced in orange and yellow, giving the room a cozy and romantic air even though it was extravagantly luxurious. The rustic furniture, top-notch appliances, and rich leather, deep brown sofas with the huge, wool throws were a perfect setting to what I so badly wanted to happen. We were on the wooden floor, lying over a knitted rug with Wolfe on top of me. He growled into my mouth and slid his hand into the hem of my panties under my dress, his fingers teasing my opening, and any trace of logic flew out the window. I found myself bucking my groin toward his hand, asking for more as he devoured my neck. Bracing himself on his knees, he opened the front buttons of my dress with his free hand while he still played with my arousal. When he got to the last button, he slid the dress off me, his eyes raking over my body, stripping me from my inhibitions.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. “Worthy of every single compliment and flattery I’ve heard about you before the masquerade. I said I wanted to see for myself, but I never mentioned—you smashed every single fucking expectation I’ve ever had.”

I blinked away the tears, touching his face everywhere, claiming him somehow by doing so. “Please make love to me.”

Not sex.

Not fuck.

Not screw.

Love, love, love.

Make love to me, my heart silently begged. He kissed my lips, moving his mouth to my nipples and suckling on one of them, applying gradual pressure with his teeth and tongue.

He teased and sucked on my tits, then traced my folds with his fingers, borrowing my wetness and using it to circle my nub in delicious rounds of pleasure.

“Just, please, do it already,” I whimpered, my fingers running through his dark hair as he kissed and leisurely licked the inside of my thighs and the sensitive place between them. “I need you inside me.”

“Why?”

“I can’t explain.”

“Yes, you can. You’re just afraid to.”

Wolfe Keaton was a kiss thief, but it wasn’t only a kiss that he stole. He stole my heart, too. Ripped it from my chest and put it in his pocket. I did what he promised me I would do, and willingly—I spread my legs and begged him, once again, this time meaning every word. “Because you were right. You said I’d come to your bed willingly—and I am. So, take me.”

He kissed me dirty, biting down on my tender lower lip, that was still sore from the accident. “Still not the entire truth, but this’ll do.”

He rose on his forearms, reaching for his wallet and taking out a condom. I swallowed down my disappointment. He pulled back, scanning my face.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He was about to chuck my chin, before thinking the better of it and running his thumb along my jawline. “We’re past the point of lying to each other. Spill.”

My eyes drifted to the condom. “I just…I thought the first time—our real first time—would be more personal.” My face heated as I said that because I realized that I berated him for suggesting the exact same thing mere hours ago.

“Can you…?”

“I’ll finish out.” He shut me up with a kiss. “We won’t make a habit until you’re on the pill. Deal?”

I nodded.

He tossed the condom on the carpet, his eyes staring deep into mine as he eased into me. I involuntarily tensed, before he lowered himself to kiss my mouth.

“Relax for me.”

I took a deep breath, doing as I was told. Halfway through the penetration, it started to hurt, but in a very different way than last time. This time, it was a delicious pain as he stretched me from within, allowing me the time to accommodate his girth by kissing me in between. He showered me with words that gave me courage and strength. Words I believed with every piece of my soul.

“You’re as graceful as rain.”

“Beautiful as the starless Chicago sky on a sad, masquerade night.”

“You feel so good, Nemesis. I would drown in you and die if you don’t stop me.”

It was oceans away from the last time he commented about my tightness, which felt dirty and degrading. I clutched his shoulders, moaning softly and cradling him, my body slowly mirroring his until the discomfort was replaced by lusty, jerky rolls of my hips. I purred into his ear as he drove faster into me, bracing himself on his hands, determined not to touch my ribs and forehead. Not to hurt me. Then his thrusts became so deep and feral, I knew he was close. I sank my nails into the flesh of his back, feeling the climax rising within my belly, too. It was different than all the times he licked me. Deeper, more profound.

“Gonna come now, Nem.”

He was about to pull out when I clung to him for a fierce kiss, and I felt him emptying inside me. The warm, sticky, thick liquid filling me from the inside. We held onto each other for a long moment before he rolled off me. This time, there was no shame and distress. I didn’t look away. He didn’t cradle his face and wish he could crawl into a crack in the floor and die. Our heads were tilted toward one another, both of us on the carpet by the fire.

He chucked me under the chin.

“You finished inside.” I licked my lips.

He yawned and stretched at the same time, not looking particularly worried, and that worried me.

“I’m not taking another pill,” I said, shaking my head as I held my dress to my chest. “It’s not healthy.”

“Sweetheart.” His eyes crinkled as he looked at me. “As I said before, the dates don’t add up.”

“Screw the dates.”

“Can I screw you instead?”

I laughed. “Fine. I’m taking your word for it.”

“As you should.” He chucked my chin again.

“Stop doing that, Wolfe. I told you. It makes me feel like a kid.”

He stood up, completely naked, and hoisted me over his shoulder, careful not to touch my ribs, then carried me to the master bedroom, planting a teasing slap on my butt cheek, before biting on it softly.

“What are you doing?” I laughed breathlessly.

“Some very grown-up things to you.”

We spent the night in the same bed, going through three condoms. The morning after, we checked on Artemis again. She was happy to see us, and I took her for a quick ride, surprised with the minimal discomfort having sex four times last night had caused me. We gave her food and water and sat by her side in the barn. That morning, in the barn with Artemis as our audience, Wolfe taught me how to perform oral sex on a man. He lowered me to my knees, stood up, unzipped his dark Diesels, and took himself out. At first, he taught me how to stroke it, then how to squeeze it. When I felt comfortable enough, he asked if I wanted to put it in my mouth.

“Yes.” I looked down at the hay, swallowing down my shame.

“Look at me, Francesca.”

I looked up, blinking at his gray eyes.

“There’s nothing wrong with what you’re about to do. You know that, right?”

I nodded, but I didn’t actually believe it. I was pretty certain every single person I went to church with, including my own parents, would have a heart attack if they knew what we were doing.

“What if people find out?”

He laughed. The bastard full-blown laughed.

“Everyone you know older than eighteen has had oral sex, Francesca.”

“I didn’t.”

“And thank fuck for that.”

Surely, he was just telling me what I wanted to hear. Wolfe probably read the doubt on my face because he stroked the side of my cheek and sighed.

“Do you think I’m a pervert?” he asked.

“What?” I felt my face heating. “No, of course not.”

“Good. Because I eat your pussy every day. Have been for weeks, now. And plan to do so for the rest of my life. You giving your husband pleasure is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“But you said oral sex is degrading.” I licked my lips, tossing his words from when we were engaged to the air between us.

“It’s degrading to kneel, in general. It is not degrading to kneel for someone who is worth your pride.”

I knew Wolfe was not one to talk lightly about pride. He was, after all, the Narcissus to my Nemesis. Whatever made him clutch to his pride like this had scarred him thoroughly. I wrapped my lips around his engorged head, feeling his hand guiding mine around the base of his shaft, before he put his hand over the back of my head and slowly dragged my mouth along his girth, until his crown touched the back of my throat. I wanted to gag but held back.

“Now suck on it.” He sank his fingers into my hair and clutched my roots, hard.

I was surprised by how much I enjoyed sucking his cock. I not only enjoyed the act and the velvety, warm skin, but also his unique, manly scent and the way he responded to it, jerking in my mouth and letting out desperate groans. My jaw and lips hurt by the time he held my hair and pulled out of me, tilting my head up and making me look deep into his eyes.